


180 Pomegranate Seeds

by foryouandbits



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Greek Mythology, Anxiety, Canon typical drug use, Coming of Age, Explicit Sexual Content, Graphic Depictions of Hell, Hopeful Ending, M/M, Minor Pre-Bitty Pimms, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-22
Updated: 2018-02-15
Packaged: 2019-03-08 00:35:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 32,841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13446756
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/foryouandbits/pseuds/foryouandbits
Summary: From the aesthetic made byalphacrone/the_one_that_felland the myth of Hades and Persephone:Jack, the god of the spring, is the son of Alicia, the goddess of the harvest, and Bob, the god of the sky. Having spent his entire life on Earth with his mother, he cannot shake the feeling that there is more than just his duties to the land. There are whispers of the god of the underworld, the ruler of a place full of horror, but Jack finds himself inexplicably drawn to it. Who is the god of the underworld and why is he so terrifying? Why won’t anyone answer Jack’s questions?





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You do not need a thorough understanding of the Myth of Persephone or Greek mythology in order to understand this, but it may help. I’ll include notes at the end of chapters explaining which characters represent which gods and any other nuances I include. 
> 
> Many thanks to my betas [Luckie](http://archiveofourown.org/users/luckie_dee) and [Kayci](http://zimmerbittle.tumblr.com/) for their work on this!

On the third day of the month called Metageitnion, a child was born to Bob, the god of the sky and king of all who lived. The child was named Jack and shortly after his birth, he and his mother Alicia, the goddess of the harvest, were sent from Mount Olympus to the fields of Earth. Jack was beloved by Alicia and dubbed the god of the spring, for when the child grew to adulthood, Jack would inherit her duties and bring forth life from the soil. Jack carried the best characteristics of his mother — her clear blue eyes, her high cheeks, her grace — as well as those from his father, including hair the color of night.

They lived in a home atop a hill overlooking miles of tall green grass. Behind the home spread the forest, filled with trees of varying shapes and sizes, the ground below littered with bushes and shrubs. Everything was in reach and accessible to them, but nothing had a name, and the blossoms of the trees and blooms of the flowers remained unpainted. Alicia waited patiently for her son to grow, as this would be his first task.

In the meantime, Alicia doted upon her son, who aged from a scooting baby to an active toddler to a speedy child. At five years old, Alicia could no longer easily catch Jack as he ran down the hills and through the tall grass. "Jack!" Alicia yelled, but there was nothing in the wind apart from excited giggles. Jack, now just taller than the green slivers that whipped behind him in his haste, picked up speed and changed direction, headed toward the forest instead. His small hands spread beside him like a bird and he left ripples in his wake all throughout the field, evidence of his joy and existence.

Alicia changed direction as well, knowing the trajectory her son would take. She sprinted hard, her legs aching, and caught Jack just as he hit the edge of the trees. Jack squealed and giggled when Alicia lifted him from the waist and into her arms. "Mama! You caught me!" said Jack. He was not breathing hard, not like Alicia.

"Yes, son, I caught you. Don’t run so fast, I need to be able to see you."

"I am never far, Mama," said Jack.

Alicia took a few steps forward to a tree, its branches heavy with fruit. Jack reached his hands out for one. "What shall we call this fruit, Jack?" she asked. "It is your favorite but it has no name."

"This is an apple, Mama," said Jack.

"An apple?" Alicia asked. "Why apple?"

"Because it tastes like an apple," said Jack, who then took a large bite of the fruit called apple and the juice ran down his face while he chewed. He wiped at his mouth with the collar of his brown tunic before he took another bite.

"That makes sense, then," said Alicia. "None of these apples have color. What color should apples be, Jack?"

"Red," said Jack immediately.

"Like which red?" asked Alicia.

"Like the sky when the sun goes away," said Jack.

"Think hard about the sky, Jack," said Alicia. "What does it look like in your mind?"

Jack took another bite of the apple and when he did the skin, previously white, came away deep red, just like the sky when the sun set. Jack laughed and showed the apple to his mother, who smiled at her son. "Yes, that is the color of an apple," said Alicia. "That is what you will do, Jack, when you are older. So much of the world still needs color."

"But what if I do it wrong?" Jack asked.

"You cannot do it wrong," said Alicia. "You are the child of the sky and the land. This is what you were always meant to do."

As Jack grew, Alicia taught him many things. Jack learned all of the colors first, then the numbers and letters. He learned the layout of the land, what was contained in their Earth and beyond. Jack learned to read and write; he wrote to his father often, whom he saw but rarely. Bob always wrote him back, long letters telling him to be good for his mother, to learn much and laugh often when Bob could not be there to laugh with him. One day when Alicia took Jack to the other side of the forest where there was rich soil for sowing new things, Jack asked about his father.

"Why can’t Papa live here with us?" Jack asked. Alicia had made several small holes in the earth, all in a row, and had a bowl of small seeds in her hand. She gave the bowl to Jack.

"Your father is the god of the sky, Jack, so that is where he must live. He rules over all things there, all of us gods and all of the mortals who live beyond this land. He misses you greatly, but he has work to do that cannot be done at home. Now put a seed in this hole for me." Jack dropped one seed into the first hole. Alicia covered it with soil.

"What will grow, Mama?" Jack asked.

"We shall see when the time comes. This seed belongs to the underworld now."

"The underworld?" Jack asked. "What is that?"

"This is our earth," said Alicia. She took a fistful of soil in her hand and let it spill out through her fingers. Jack did the same; it was cool and crumbly and fell easily out of his hands. "Whatever sprouts out of the earth belongs to you and me. It is our job to ensure it has life and flourishes in the sun. Whatever is underneath this earth, like our seed is now, belongs to the god of the underworld. We cannot reap what has been planted because it does not belong to us any longer, so we must wait until it grows."

"How long must we wait?" Jack asked.

"It takes many long days and nights for the first signs of life. The mortals plant their seeds and sprinkle them with water and wait with great patience for their harvest. I think you and I can cheat a little. What do you say, Jack?" Jack nodded enthusiastically. He set the bowl down and Alicia placed both her hands on either side of the hole she had just covered. Jack placed both his hands next to hers. She closed her eyes, so Jack did the same. He felt a tremble in his hands, warmth that did not come from the cool dirt between his fingers. He opened just one eye and a small green stalk had sprouted from the soil.

"Mama!" he yelled.

"Shh, sweetie," said Alicia. "Concentrate."

Jack closed his eyes again and concentrated on the stalk he had seen. The warmth spread up his arms. He could feel the underground as well as the earth he knelt upon, could feel the expansion of roots and the upward trajectory of the plant until it grew so high it touched his nose. He sneezed and then opened his eyes. His mother laughed.

"It’s beautiful, Jack," she said. "What shall we name it?"

Jack stared at it; Alicia’s hands were still on the ground and so it continued to grow. He stood and it grew until it was as tall as he, a long thin stalk with braided buds at the top. As he watched the color began to fade until it was no longer green but gold. He looked at his mother. "This is wheat."

"Wheat," she repeated. "Well, let us plant the rest of the wheat in our soil and not cheat any longer." Jack knelt again and planted one seed in each hole with his mother. They worked in silence until the sun was low in the sky before they returned home. Alicia stripped Jack of his tunic and pushed him toward the river to remove the dirt from his hands and knees. Jack sat in the shallows of the river and washed, his eyes westward to the setting sun. The water was cool and refreshing, so he sat in it until the sun was gone and the stars had come out, then returned to their home where Alicia had a fresh tunic waiting for him.

"Are you going to sleep in the meadow again, sweetie?" Alicia asked. Jack nodded. "I will come with you." She took his hand and led him to his favorite spot in the grass below the hill. Jack lay on his back and looked up at the stars. There were so many of them.

"Where do the stars come from, Mama?" Jack asked.

"Many of them were placed there by other gods and goddesses. That one there, do you see it?" Alicia pointed and Jack snuggled close to her in order to be able to follow her finger. "That is the constellation of stars that was highest when you were born. It is in the shape of the Nemean Lion. It was placed there so we would all remember what a glorious creation it once was."

"Who else is up there?"

"Next to it is Astraea, the goddess of justice, whom your father sent to live in the sky. On the other side of her are her scales, which represent the balance that comes with justice."

"What is justice?"

"That is an answer for when you are older, my little one," said Alicia. "Now it is time for sleep." Jack did not move from her arms and quickly fell asleep with her.

The following morning, Jack woke before his mother. Not wishing to disturb her, he carefully removed himself from under her arm and headed toward the forest. There was a tree near the center that was taller than most. The tallest of all of their trees grew on the other side of the house, but there was nothing but sea in that direction. Jack wished to look at the land, not the sea, and climbed what he called a maple tree, which grew leaves bigger than his hands.

He climbed as far as he could, until his head poked out above the clusters of leaves, and looked over the land that he and his mother owned. Everything was rich and green, juxtaposing beautifully with the blue in the sky. The trees were the deepest green, deeper than the fields, but as Jack looked he could see most of the fields were dotted with unpainted flowers, some so much so that it looked like large blankets of white had been lain across the ground.

"Jack!" said Alicia. Jack looked down; his mother was climbing the tree. "I was looking for you. I should have known you’d be up here."

"Look, Mama," he said, pointing to the white blankets of unpainted petals.

"Yes, there’s much to be done still," she said. "When you are grown, Jack, all of this will be yours. You and I will cultivate the land and keep every type of flower, tree, bush, and crop alive and well. We will ensure that they have enough light and water and leave none of them behind. You will give them names and colors and everyone in the world will know what they are called, and everyone’s life will be better because you have brought this to them."

"Everyone?" Jack asked quietly.

"Yes, everyone. The gods and mortals alike know the names of the apples that grow, they know the name of wheat, and what did you call this tree when you climbed it? A maple tree?"

"I never spoke it," said Jack.

"But still you named it. And now this tree is a maple tree. People will be able to collect its sap and sweeten their meals with it. That is because of you, my little prince. You have such a big job ahead of you and all the rest of time to finish it."

"But what if I never finish?" Jack asked. "What if I cannot do it all?"

"You are the son of Bob, god of all gods and mankind. You have his blood in you. You can do it all, Jack. Maybe not today, but you will. Today we will just check on what we planted yesterday."

They did; nothing had sprouted yet, so Jack then followed his mother across the land, holding onto the ribbon that cinched the waist of her chiton. Some things she watered, some things she did not, and she stopped several times to remove weeds that gathered in spots where she wished them not to. Jack had seen her do this before and had never understood why, but he did not ask. His mind drifted to the west where he had seen blankets of unpainted flowers, and he worried over the task that waited him when he grew into a man.

That evening he slept alone under the stars. He looked at the lion directly above him without seeing it; he could only see the fields of work, his mother’s deliberate hands. She removed plants for reasons he did not understand. She watered without hesitation, yet he could not tell which plants needed the water and which did not. She understood the secrets of the underworld as if they were plain as day. She had not even looked at the vastness of the world as he had. How was he to accomplish everything? How was he to name it all? What if he ran out of names? Apple, wheat, and maple came to him without a second thought, but what if he looked at a new fruit on a tree he had never seen and did not know what to say?

Alicia had said everyone in the world now knew apples. What if people did not like apples? What if they liked something else? What if there were mortals surrounded by a fruit he had yet to name and they did not know because of him? He was the son of the god of gods, so the mortals would know him and they would curse him because he had not found the names quickly enough.

A drop of water fell on his face. He blinked; the lion was gone, all of the stars were gone, replaced by dark clouds that dripped upon him, just a few at first, but then more and more. He curled into a tight ball on his side, the rain falling heavily now, drenching his tunic and removing the warmth from his skin. He was cold, so cold he shivered, but he did not move.

"Jack," Alicia said. He looked up at his mother; there was rain on his face but some of it had come from his own eyes. "It’s okay, sweetie. Come inside and be warm."

"What if I cannot do it, Mama?" he asked.

"You can do it, my love," she said.

"But what if I can’t?"

"You will understand when you are older, Jack. You can and you will. This is why you are here." The tears continued to fall out of his eyes and out of the sky. Alicia brushed his hair from his face and then lifted him from the ground. He grasped her tightly, the weight of his duty caught in his throat, and cried the whole of the night, the thunder roaring with his wails.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Here’s a translation for those of you not familiar with Greek mythology:
> 
> Jack = Persephone, goddess of the spring
> 
> Bob = Zeus, god of the sky and king of all gods
> 
> Alicia = Demeter, goddess of the harvest
> 
> The Nemean Lion is the constellation Leo, Astrea is Virgo and her scales are Libra. Metageitnion is a month in the ancient Greek calendar which is the closest translation to modern August.
> 
> And just a note about the story if you are familiar with mythology, there are a few minor changes to make this fic work. If you have any questions, please ask!


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading and thanks to my betas [Luckie](http://luckiedee.tumblr.com/) and [Kayci](http://zimmerbittle.tumblr.com/)!

The cycles of the stars passed by several times and Jack lay in the meadow to watch as they did. He recognized the constellation of the lion by sight and he and his mother rejoiced each time they saw it, for Jack was another year older and another year closer to manhood. He grew with each passing and his looks changed, less and less like that of his mother with every reappearance of the lion in the sky. He grew tall, taller than Alicia, and with his consistent work in the fields and forests his shoulders broadened and his arms filled. The change was gradual, but even so, one day when Jack had spent sixteen years on Earth with his mother, she took his angled face in her hands and said, "You look so like your father."

Jack and Alicia worked their land according to Alicia’s direction — when the wheat they planted turned golden, Jack cut their stalks with a sickle and together they made bread. When Alicia wished a plant to be free of weeds, Jack removed them without question. When Alicia needed fire, Jack took an ax to the forest and split logs for her, then together they restored what they cut down. They spoke no further of Jack’s duty to the earth, and most days he was able to forget, but others he would climb the maple tree, sit on the highest branch, and stare at the blankets of unpainted flowers until the sun set and he could see them no more.

Jack was in the tree again early one morning when he heard his mother calling for him. He did not reply; she knew where he was and would soon discover him. The leaves around him rustled when she began to climb, and then she appeared at his side, a gentle smile on her face. "Here you are," she said.

"Here I am," he replied.

"You’ve been spending a lot of time up here," she said. "Most mornings and most sunsets."

"Yes," he replied again and his gaze drifted back to the field in the distance.

"Jack, you are almost a grown man now. Every day you grow stronger and smarter. I am so incredibly proud of who you have become." She lay a hand on his face, her thumb resting on his cheek. He looked back at her; despite what she said about how he resembled his father, her eyes were still the eyes he saw when he looked into the glass of a quiet river.

"I have a task for you today," she said. "I wish you to go there and paint the flowers for me."

Jack looked at the blanket of land again and his breath hitched at the sight of it. Alicia continued to hold his face with gentle hands. "Take your time. Travel there alone and I will find you at the end of the day. It is a beautiful place, my son, and there is nothing to fear. You will only make it better than it already is."

"But, Mother —"

"You can do it, Jack. You love the flowers. You lay among them every evening and touch them at first light. There is a reason you are here and it is to see the world flourish. Do not feel like you are doing this for anyone but me. I wish to see the colors in your mind and to hear the names of what you encounter. This tree that you love so much, it grows taller every day because you sit in it. The leaves grow large and the sap flows from inside. We placed the syrup on our bread this morning, did we not?"

"We did," said Jack. "It was very sweet."

"That exists because of you. All of the life that has been created there in the field is calling for your presence, so it can be known and be enjoyed by everyone. Sit in the field today, Jack, and see what awaits you there."

So Jack traveled beyond the forest and through the rolling hills to the flowers that awaited him. His hand passed over the tips of the blades of the soft grass and he remembered being young, when the grass was taller than him, but he would still run through it as if it were not there. There was nothing to fear back then and it was the same at that moment: he had nothing to fear in the unpainted meadow.

He launched forward, his feet falling heavily on the ground beneath him. The Earth looked different from down here but he knew the way without thought. He ran as fast as his legs would carry him; the pounding of his bare feet on the soil, the swish of his tunic against the grass, the rustle of the west wind, and the beat of his heart were all that he could hear. The wind was with him, as it always was when he ran. He had not run this fast in years, but even with his height, the muscles on his thighs, and the wind, he still did not reach the blanket for an hour.

He slowed to a halt at the edge of it. The flowers were packed tightly together and he did not wish to disturb them. The field went on as far as he could see, up the side of a hill to the west and on a slope from the north to the south. He took a tentative step inside, and then another, and another, until the sun was directly overhead and he could see nothing but white. He carefully sat amongst them. There were so many different varieties, several of each; all congregated with he at the center, their blooms facing him as they awaited his direction.

He reached out his hand to one nearest him and recognized it as the most prominent flower in the meadow where he slept each night. In his mind he could see the color it should be, blue like the sea when it rained. It was supposed to be named morning glory, and as his finger brushed along the soft bloom, the hue jumped from petal to petal, from bud to bud, until every morning glory in the field had turned blue. He touched a daisy and it happened again, the bright yellow of the sun fluttering around him like an eddy in water; he the beginning, he the initiator.

The smattering of blue and yellow broke up enough of the white in the field to calm him. The rest did not look so daunting now that two had been completed, so he whiled away the afternoon, finding and naming every white flower in the field. Some he left white, because they were supposed to be that way, but by the time the sun turned its course toward the horizon he was surrounded by every color in the rainbow. He never ran out of words, like he had feared as a child. Everything had a name, he just needed to find it.

He sat on the far edge of the field, at the apex of the hill, and looked at the splendor before him. The orange flowers liked to be near each other, the same with the yellows, but the pinks and purples and reds mixed together. He turned to a rose on a bush next to him; it had prickly thorns but beautiful blossoms, and he frowned. Not all roses should be red, but all in the field were red, and he was unsure how to fix it.

Instead he headed back inside the multicolored blanket and sat near a cluster of blue and yellow buds. He snapped the stem of a yellow daisy and felt a quiver in his hands. It was a familiar, unpleasant feeling. He’d felt it before, usually when cutting down trees for firewood or harvesting wheat for bread. It unsettled him, but not enough to prevent him from doing it several more times. He wove the stems of the yellow daisies together to make a loop just big enough for his head. Then he picked four of the morning glories, his favorite flower of all in the field, and placed them alongside the yellow daisies before he placed it atop his head.

"Now that is the crown of a god," said Alicia with a laugh in her voice. Jack peered over his shoulder.

"I can make you one too," he replied with a smile.

"Please."

"What color would you like?"

Alicia picked red and pink, so Jack carefully selected enough flowers for her and wove them together. As he did, Alicia cascaded through the field, admiring Jack’s work. When she returned to the row of rose bushes where he settled, he looked up at her. She knelt before him and he placed the completed crown on her head. "You look beautiful, Mother," he said.

"Thank you, my love."

"What if I don’t want all the roses to be red?" he asked, gesturing to the roses in her crown. "What if some should be white and pink or both?"

"This is your task, son. You know what to do."

He didn’t, but when he touched the petal of the rose on the bush, the entire plant bloomed pink instead of red. He looked around. None of the others were affected.

"See?" said Alicia. "You know what to do. That is enough for today, though. Let’s go home. I wish to walk through the field with you and have you tell me the names of everything we see."

Jack did; he pointed out the morning glories on his crown first, followed by daisies, then peonies and tulips and daffodils. He showed them all to her and she smiled at him the entire way. When they left the field and headed back toward home, she placed her arm in his.

"While you were here I received a letter from your father’s messenger. He wishes to see you tomorrow," she said.

"How long has it been since I last saw him?" Jack asked.

"Many months. I believe Ganymede was above us." When Jack looked at her, she was looking up at him. "He will be happy to see you. How much you have grown in such a short time."

The following day Jack heard the horses before he saw them; four steeds named for the wind carried an empty chariot made of gold. It was always a sight to behold, and whenever Jack heard their hooves on the rocks that formed the bridge over the river, he ran to the top of the hill to watch their approach. The animals in his land were nothing like this; he saw bees mostly, birds in the trees, and fish in the stream. The forest held the larger animals but they were afraid of him, so they scattered when they heard his feet. The horses were the largest animals he had ever seen, even now that he was as tall as their shoulders.

When they came to a halt in front of the house, Jack approached Zephyros first. Zephyros had golden hair like Alicia and a white stripe down the bridge of his nose. He was the kindest of the four horses and the only one who would allow Jack to pet his soft nose. Jack had woken early and ran to the forest for an apple because he knew that Zephyros would arrive soon. The horse ate the apple from Jack’s hand and nuzzled him softly before the others neighed impatiently. Jack entered the chariot.

"Goodbye, Jack," said Alicia. Jack was much too tall inside the chariot to be reached so he bent over and allowed her to kiss him on the cheek. "I will be here waiting for your return."

"I will be home soon, Mother," he said.

"Give my love to your father for me," she said. "Tell him I miss him very much."

"I will."

The horses took off of their own accord and Jack held on to the edge of the golden chariot, surprised at their haste. They traveled down to the river in seconds and off toward the hills in the north. Despite the speed of the horses, who were the gods of the wind, it still took the length of the day to arrive at the base of Mount Olympus where Bob lived. The ascent took longer and the sun was setting behind the mountain when the chariot stopped in front of the palace and Jack was able to disembark.

Bob met him at the door. "Jack, my son!" he said, and wrapped both arms around Jack. The last time they had seen each other Jack looked at Bob’s shoulders; now they stood just inches apart, Bob remaining slightly taller. "Look at you! Every time I see you, you are bigger and bigger! You are just as handsome as your father."

"You are my father," said Jack with a grin.

"And I am quite handsome," said Bob. "Come in, I have much to discuss with you." They walked through the length of the palace, which Jack had only seen a handful of times. It seemed a little more grand each time he did, though, as he noticed something new with every visit. This time it was the statues engraved at the top of each marble pillar. Their faces varied, as if they each represented someone specific, but Jack recognized none of them.

"I believe you were pleased to see me today, were you not?" Bob asked, his arm around Jack’s shoulders. Jack looked away from the pillars and back at his father.

"I am," said Jack.

"I could tell," said Bob. He pointed forward to the overlook at the back end of the palace. The color of the sky was fading, but the sunset was magnificent. Jack could still see the pale blue when he looked directly up but it transitioned smoothly to gold, orange, and red. "Such a beautiful day and such a beautiful sunset. That is because of you."

"The sunset is because of me?" Jack asked.

"The beauty of it. When you are happy, Jack, the sky is happy too. When you are sad or frightened the sky weeps for you. That is one of the reasons I called you here today, to teach you how to use this power in your work. But first, let’s have dinner."

They ate on the terrace as the day turned to night. At home, Alicia and Jack made their meals together from what they could harvest from the earth. There was never meat and rarely fish. Bob’s table had already been laid out; the fruit and vegetables Jack recognized from his land, but at the center of the table was a roasted hunk of meat with bones sticking up into the air, which Jack ate to be polite. Bob asked of Alicia and Jack relayed her message, but they discussed nothing of importance at the table.

"Come with me, Jack, I wish to show you something."

Bob led Jack back inside the palace, Jack nibbling on mint leaves which had been placed as a decoration around the roasted lamb. They stopped in front of a large mural that encompassed the wall. It depicted several people, only two of which he recognized, as they were the only two people Jack had ever met. His father sat on his throne in the center, wearing robes of purple and holding a bolt of lightning. His mother stood to the right of Bob with her urn of water and a bushel of golden wheat in her hands. He noticed, then, that he himself sat at her feet, holding an apple, his crown of blue and yellow flowers atop his head. His father was right; they did look alike.

"These are the gods and goddesses over which I rule," said Bob. "When your mother and I last exchanged letters, she stated she was concerned for you. Sixteen years old and weighed down by the responsibility of your position. No one to speak to apart from your parents, no friends to call your own. It is partly my fault, I suppose. When you were born I wished you to live with your mother immediately, to learn her ways and to bring forth life in a way that is unique to you. Your mother can create the fruit of the earth, but you give it a name. You give it color. You are the reason we know it today."

Jack swallowed hard; his afternoon in the blanketed field had proven joyful and easy, but it was the first of many tasks ahead of him.

"The lesson of the sky will come naturally to you, I think," said Bob, his hand upon Jack’s shoulder again. "We will not spend much time there. This is why I called you here, to discuss the family of gods to which you are part."

"There are so many."

"There are but a few," said Bob. "Your mother has never taken you to Athens, has she?"

"We have never left the earth that surrounds our home," said Jack with a shake of his head.

"One day she will take you there. There is a new theatre in Eleusis, the city where she and I spent time before you were born. When you travel there, you will see how few gods exist in comparison to the mortals we have created."

"How are the mortals different from us?"

"That is difficult to explain, but they are not as special as you or I. They do not hold the power that we do. They do not drink from the well of ambrosia like we do and thus they are not immortal. They are still unique in their own right. There are true heroes among them and true beauty as well. None of them can hold a candle to the beauty that belongs to your mother, of course." Bob gestured to Alicia and Jack smiled at her image; he had not yet been gone a day and already missed her face. "But let me tell you of the others.

"My father is the god of time and the cosmos. While I rule over the sky and the beings who live within it and below it, my father controlled the stars. My mother is the goddess of comfort and ease. She was always pleasant to be near. My father was one of the Titans, though, and was afraid that one day his children would overpower him. Because of that I was raised in secrecy, and when I was just older than you, we went to war with them."

"What is war?" Jack asked.

"A horribly unpleasant thing and not worth explaining. The Titans were defeated and banished away from this land. Most of them were banished to Tartarus, in the underworld." Jack looked down to the left edge of the mural to an area encompassed by darkness. It was difficult to decipher anything apart from golden hair hidden in shadows and a nose that perked upward at the end.

"What is in the underworld?" Jack asked.

"That is a place you do not need to ever worry on," said Bob. "You are a god. Because you are not mortal, you will never have reason to go there."

"But mortals go there?" Jack asked.

"Yes. All mortals will go there someday."

"You said the Titans are there, though. The Titans are gods, are they not?"

"The Titans ruled with anger and wrath. They were banished because of this. The god of the underworld ensures they never leave." 

Bob directed Jack toward the top of painting, to a dark haired woman in a chariot the shape and color of the sun. "Let us look at more beautiful things, Jack. The goddess of the sun spreads light as far as the eye can see. She rests when it is night and brings forth the dawn every morning. Because she moves the sun through the sky, she can see all things. You would do well to know her, for without the sun, nothing can grow."

Jack looked to the far right side of the mural, at a man with a youthful countenance and hair the same color as the goddess of the sun. He sat upon a throne made of sharks and carried a three pronged staff. His throne overlooked the beach and the sea; his gaze fell fondly on it.

"And the water," said Jack. "The water brings life as much as the sun."

"Yes. The god of the sea rules the oceans and the waves. His water brings life only to the weeds on the shores, only to that which lives inside of the water. The water you need comes from the sky, and both you and I can summon it when necessary."

Jack was itching to learn but stood patiently at his father’s side as the lesson continued.

"Then there are three sisters who I wish you to know," said Bob. They stood together on the mural, one closest to the sea, tall with long blonde hair, the other two with dark hair. "The goddess of love," began Bob, pointing to the one with the blonde hair. "You will learn more of her power after you have the opportunity to visit more of the world. Her sting is both wonderful and painful at the same time. The goddess of truth." He pointed to the sister in the middle, holding glass in front of her eyes. "There is much to be said about truth, my son. There are people in the world who do not wish to know the truth, nor do they understand the importance of speaking truth. This goddess is unafraid of it, and you should be too."

Bob pointed to the final sister; by her countenance she appeared to be the eldest. "The goddess of wisdom. There is much that your mother has left to teach you, and much I wish to say, but for now, this: wisdom is the best tool you can carry. There are events in this world which must come to pass. The fates control that; not you, not me. When it comes to everything else, wisdom will show you the way."

"Papa," said Jack, "I live with the earth. What do I need with truth and love and wisdom?"

"You will not always be with the earth. You will meet others; you will grow and flourish just like the harvest you tend. You are a sweet child, innocent and kind. Your innocence will be tested."

Jack could feel the apprehension rise in his chest and Bob seemed to sense it; he looked to the sky, which was gathering clouds. "I think now we can work on the weather. Come with me."

Bob led Jack back to the terrace where dinner had been served. The clouds obstructed the light from the moon; it was difficult to see. When Bob looked to the sky the clouds thickened and lightning flashed inside of them. He lifted his hand and a bolt grew there, illuminating both of them. Bob held it out for Jack to take.

He had only seen lightning a few times in his life, most recently in a storm that brewed after he fell asleep in the maple tree and tumbled all the way to the ground. The thunder sounded immediately and the lightning hit a cinnamon tree nearby, causing it to burst into flames. It was terrifying to behold but the flames extinguished in the ensuing rain and Alicia helped him repair the damage that had been done. Jack looked at the bolt of lightning but did not touch it.

"You are my son, Jack," said Bob. "It will not harm you."

Jack took the bolt, which was warm in his hand. He could sense the power inside of it and did not like the feeling. Bob gestured to the open air. "Throw it."

Jack drew his arm back and threw as hard as he could; the bolt soared into the sky and exploded into streaks that spread up into the clouds and also down to the earth. Jack could feel it reverberate when it hit the ground.

"Good," said Bob. "Now do you wish it to rain?"

"Yes," said Jack.

"Then call the rain."

Jack did not know what Bob meant by this. Bob had not called out for anything but the clouds gathered all the same. This was not like the naming of the flowers; every flower had a name and he knew it when he saw it. This was not like placing his hands on the earth and expediting the growth of that beneath it. He looked to the sky and waited for the rain to come.

Then it did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bob introduces a lot of characters in this chapter with varying degrees of importance to the plot:
> 
> Bob's parents are Cronos (the god of time) and Rhea (the goddess of comfort) but they don't appear in the fic. 
> 
> Bitty = Hades, god of the underworld
> 
> Lardo = Helios, the god(dess) of the sun
> 
> Chowder = Poseidon, god of the sea
> 
> Camilla Collins = Aphrodite, goddess of love
> 
> Ford = Veritas, goddess of truth
> 
> Professor Atley = Athena, goddess of wisdom


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for reading and the most thanks to my betas [Luckie](archiveofourown.org/users/luckie_dee) and [Kayci](http://zimmerbittle.tumblr.com/)!

The image of the mural upon his father’s wall burned into Jack’s mind for months following their visit. He thought frequently of the gods he saw there. They were varied, each one, much different in the color of their hair and skin than Jack and his parents. None lived near the earth where Jack and Alicia continued to tend the land, to bring new life and cultivate what existed there. When he was not working alongside his mother, he let his gaze drift to the sky.

The goddess of the sun was the only other being that Jack had the potential to see from Earth, but even when he covered his eyes or shaded the light with clouds, he could not see the woman driving the chariot. He searched for her frequently, opting to focus at sunset when he could look longer.

Alicia noticed his distraction and stood with him at the top of the hill overlooking the blanket to the west of their home, where Jack was more comfortable now that most of the flowers had been named. Jack did not face them, however, and searched the red sun for the goddess. It was fruitless, like all his attempts had been; the sun was the closest of all the gods, but it was still too far away.

"Why do you look so closely at the sun?" Alicia asked.

"My father said it crosses the sky on a chariot driven by a goddess."

"Yes, Larissa," said Alicia. "I know her well. Her light gives life to all things."

"I know no one well, Mother."

"You know me," said Alicia.

"And I love you." Jack pulled his mother close to him. "Can I meet her?"

"I will write to her tomorrow," said Alicia. "You will like her, Jack. She is similar to you in many ways."

It was many days before a meeting could be arranged, but then early in the morning, while still quite dark, a pure white horse met Jack on the seaside beach. After he mounted it, it took flight to the east. Jack gripped its pale mane tightly; the ascent was jarring and unexpected. He should have expected it, however, as the sun always flew high in the sky, further than the best of the birds.

His stomach leapt when the horse began its descent. They landed on the opposite bank of the same sea where Larissa waited with her other three horses, each as white as the one he rode in upon. Larissa stood in her golden chariot, which shone so brightly it hurt his eyes, so Jack looked at her instead. She was small even with the height of the chariot’s white wheels, which made it difficult to see her as she reattached the horse to its harness.

Jack approached her chariot. "Sup," she said.

"Hello," Jack replied.

"Your mom says you’re pretty new to the whole ‘meeting people’ thing so I’ll go easy on you. Do you want to see the sky?"

"Yes."

"Come on in."

Jack hopped inside the chariot; Larissa’s head came just to his chest. She craned her neck to look up at him. "Not gonna work. Stand over here, otherwise you’re going to cast a shadow on the whole land." Jack moved to her other side and she pulled on the reins in front of her. "Hold on. We’re taking off." Jack gripped the edge of the chariot; the four horses ran along the shore to gain momentum then launched into the air. Jack set his feet in order to prevent himself from falling out the open back.

The chariot had been rickety and loud on the rocks of the beach, and the shoes of the horses were just as cacophonous. Once airborne, however, everything turned quiet, even the wind that blew Jack’s hair off his forehead. The speed in which they traveled was hard to judge since the journey began over the sea. Jack looked down at the water, illuminated by the glow of Larissa’s chariot, and watched as the waves grew further and further away. He had never seen the sea look so small.

"You do this every day?" Jack asked her. Larissa looked up at him again; he noticed for the first time that she had lined her eyes with black paint. It fit her face well. She nodded.

"Every day, Jack."

"Does it ever bore you? To see the same world again and again?"

Larissa pointed; the shore was approaching. As it did, Jack’s breath hitched in his throat. They were not flying above his home but instead beyond it, routes that Jack had only seen during his travels to Mount Olympus. His home was packed with everything that could exist, so he and his mother could care for it; this land was more unique. The fields that lined the shore were littered with similar flowers, the forests with similar trees. Not all of the flora of Earth resided here but only those that fit the landscape, those that were meant for this part of the world. It was easier to see their complementary beauty this way.

"See?" said Larissa. "It never gets old."

Jack watched with bated breath as they passed the sea and flew over the land. Since the first day that Jack sat in the white blanket and painted the flowers, he never imagined anything could look as beautiful as his homeland. What lay beneath him was beauty of the acutest kind, and what his mother had said was true: it was because of him, and this was his purpose in the world.

"My mother says you see all things," said Jack.

"You can see everything from here," replied Larissa. "Your eyes might not be meant for distance, but I was born to guide this chariot across the sky. I can see the insects that crawl in the dirt. I can see each petal on the flowers you named. I can see the mortals as they travel, as they fight, as they love. It’s all out here in front of me."

"That is frightening," said Jack.

"Nah, it’s chill," said Larissa with a shrug of her shoulder. "At this point there are no surprises. I use this information to help the other gods. Shitty needs to know where to deliver messages, so I tell him where to go."

"Who is Shitty?"

"Your father’s messenger, god of travel and persuasion." Her cheeks darkened suddenly, filling with red blooms the color of the hollyhock that Alicia loved most. "He is very persuasive."

"His name is Shitty?"

"It’s not his given name. You know, at this point, I’m actually not sure what his given name is. I knew it a long time ago, but I’ve learned so much since then."

This confused Jack; he knew many names, but none as unique as Shitty, which sounded very similar to a curse Alicia would mutter when a task did not go as planned. Jack returned his attention to the earth below them, and Larissa took her cue from him; they were silent for most of the day. It was comfortable, though, like how Jack could be silent when working next to his mother. There was no need for conversation, which was a relief, as Jack did not know what to say.

The landscape changed and Jack felt the familiar leap in his stomach as Larissa drew closer to the earth. The clusters of trees and expanse of grass began to thin and the soil was replaced with sand. Jack looked at Larissa.

"Why are we getting closer?"

"The desert is hot; the heat of the sun keeps it that way."

"But if it is too warm nothing will grow."

"And nothing should grow in the desert. It’s not a place meant for that. It’s not even like the mountains, where I fly higher to avoid the peaks and it gets cold."

"But there is life," said Jack. He pointed to a cactus, whose needles had pricked him the first time he touched one. "That explains why they need so little water."

"Yep. It never rains in the desert."

Jack frowned. "It should."

"Not everything is meant to be green and overgrown, Jack. Life needs balance. Day needs night. Sunshine needs rain. The Earth needs the underworld. The forest needs the desert."

Jack stared down at the sandy hills beneath them; the sand looked like ocean waves that did not move, each dune rippled by the wind. Larissa had mentioned the underworld, and like his mother and father, seemed to discuss it so casually, as if it was a part of everything, like the mountains or the desert or the fields.

"What is the underworld?" Jack asked.

Larissa scrunched her small nose.

"I don’t want to talk about that horrible place. It’s where mortals go when they die."

"What does that mean? To die?" Jack asked.

Larissa looked at him with wide, dark eyes. Jack liked Larissa so far; she was easy to be near and expected nothing of him, but that was the first moment she made him feel uncomfortable. He looked away from her, back to the desert that they were beginning to pass. She adjusted her hands on the reins and shifted from foot to foot.

"Listen, Jack," she said. "It’s not something you need to worry about. You and me, we’re immortal, so who cares?"

"Yeah, but what does it mean?" Jack said again. He was growing angry now and Larissa could see it in the mist that formed underneath them; it never rained in the desert but Jack was ready to brew a storm.

"I didn’t mean to upset you, bro," said Larissa with her eye on the clouds below them.

"No," said Jack, and he took a breath to calm himself. The clouds began to dissipate. "The fault is not yours. I only wish someone would give me an answer."

"I can’t give you that answer," said Larissa. "I can tell you this. Light touches everything, Jack, so the bearer of light sees everything. You never want to see the underworld."

They were silent again, then after several minutes, Larissa spoke: "We’re clear of the desert. You can make it rain if you want." Jack pointed at the sky below them; the clouds formed and a calming drizzle hit the land beneath them. "Awesome."

Hours later, they landed on the same beach where they had taken off. They had traveled the expanse of the known world, and Jack thought all of it was beautiful. The desert made him appreciate the forest; the gray rocks that fell at the base of the mountains made him appreciate their snowy peaks; the beaches made him appreciate the plains. Everything had its place and everything had its unique flora and fauna. His favorite, however, were the cities where the mortals lived.

"There are so many," he said to Larissa when her four horses touched the stony shore. "I could not see them like you, but they each had a purpose and carried out their day underneath your light as if they were grateful for it."

"You see too much good," said Larissa with a derisive laugh. "Not all people are good and not all people have a purpose. Trust me when I say that people are not grateful for my light. It’s an expectation, not a gift."

"Well I am grateful for your light," said Jack. "You provide exactly what I need to make life flourish."

"Thank you, Jack," she said. "I’m glad I met you today. Phlegon will take you home. Driving the chariot all day is rewarding but exhausting. I’m ready for some shut eye."

"Thank you, Larissa." Larissa embraced him and he hugged her tightly back before he climbed upon the back of Phlegon. The horse took off to the west. Jack was more prepared for the dips in his stomach as the horse took flight and landed on to the opposite shore. He patted the horse’s long nose before he climbed the hill back toward home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter the only newbie is Shitty, who is Hermes, the god of travel and persuasion, among other things. Lardo’s horse Phlegon is one of the four immortal horses that drives the chariot of the sun.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter Jack meets a lot of new people, so see the end of chapter notes for who they are in mythology. Also be warned; Jack does meet Parse in this chapter as well, and although their interaction is more similar to their backstory in canon and Zimbits is definitely endgame, if you’re anti-Kent Parson and Pimms, you might want to skip their interaction altogether.
> 
> Thank you to my lovely betas [Luckie](archiveofourown.org/users/luckie_dee) and [Kayci](http://zimmerbittle.tumblr.com/)!

Several weeks later another letter arrived requesting Jack’s presence at Bob’s palace on Mount Olympus. A carriage came this time, rather than Bob’s typical chariot, shortly after the sunset. Jack climbed inside, slept the journey to the mountain, and arrived just as Larissa began to fly across the sky in the east.

Bob greeted his son at the gate. To Bob’s right stood a man, completely naked apart from winged sandals strapped to his feet. Bob did not seem alarmed by his nudity, but Jack felt uncomfortable just looking at him. Jack looked at his father instead.

"Jack, my dear son, I heard your mother arranged a visit for you with Larissa, the goddess of the sun," said Bob. Jack nodded. "Did you learn much?"

"Yes," said Jack. "Larissa is very knowledgeable. I enjoyed her company."

Next to Bob, the naked man raised an eyebrow. Jack frowned and looked away from him again.

"I wish to also introduce you to some of your peers. My messenger, the god of travel and persuasion, will take you with him on his deliveries today. You saw the world from above; he will show you the world as it is." Bob turned to the naked man. "I promised his mother he’d be home by morning. Please return him here tonight."

"Yes sir!" said the naked man. Bob squeezed Jack on the shoulder before he turned and left. Jack was forced to look upon the man’s nudity since there was nothing else to see. Jack chose to look at his face; he had long flowing brown hair. He also had an impressive mustache; Jack did not like the scratchiness of his own facial hair and shaved it off every morning. Jack, like with Larissa, was unsure what to say, but unlike Larissa, this man seemed to be expecting conversation.

"Um," said Jack. "Are you Shitty?"

"Brah! You know my name!" said Shitty with a broad smile. He clapped his hand on Jack’s shoulder, just where Bob had just touched him.

"Larissa mentioned you," Jack said.

"She’s great, isn’t she?" Shitty asked. "I’m glad you  _ enjoyed her company _ ." Shitty said it as if it were to have more meaning than just that, and Jack was confused. Shitty bent over and picked up a bronze helmet that lay next to a stachel at his feet; Shitty put the helmet on his head and secured the strap loosely below his chin. He then picked up the satchel. "I’ve got a letter to deliver to the god of the sea, but before we do that my bro Adam needs some help. Do you mind if we take a bit of a detour down the mountain before heading to Atlantis?"

"All right," said Jack.

"We’ve got quite a ways to cover, so if you just wanted to hop on my back I can run us both there in no time." Shitty turned around and hunched, prepared to hold on when Jack climbed upon him, but Jack closed his eyes and held up his hands.

"Uhhhhh can you put a tunic on first?" Jack asked.

"Brah! You act like you’ve never seen a naked ass before!"

Jack hadn’t, but he did not admit this to Shitty.

"I’m not putting on a tunic. It totally slows me down. If you want to see the world, I suggest you get over your fear of the butt and hop your pretty little self up on here." Jack took in a deep breath and clenched his jaw, but placed his hands on both of Shitty’s shoulders and hopped on his back. Shitty groaned. "Ugh, bro. You are heavy."

"You were the one who said to climb upon your back!" said Jack.

"I know, and I can carry you, but I’m definitely going to feel this tomorrow. All right. First up Adam, god of music and poetry." Shitty took off running down the hill; he felt faster than Larissa’s chariot, faster than even Bob’s four horses and they were gods of the wind. It was less than a minute, and Jack barely had time to feel uncomfortable with his proximity to such an expanse of skin, before Shitty let go of him. They stood at the base of a staircase that led to the home of Shitty’s friend. Jack would still consider it a palace, although not nearly as impressive as his father’s.

They climbed the stairs. Jack was used to carrying heavy loads, sprinting up hills, and crouching in flower beds all day, but the stairs were cumbersome near the top. Shitty opened the door without invitation and walked inside. "ADAM! WHERE YOU AT!" Shitty yelled.

"IN HERE BRO!" came a shout from deep within the palace. Jack followed Shitty through a weave of tiled floors and marble statues, each depicting a different person in song. Jack could hear music as they approached a red curtain; Shitty pulled it aside. Jack entered a theatre and on the elevated stage sat a man, his fingers strumming the strings of an instrument that rested in his lap. Jack assumed that this was Adam.

"Bruh," said Shitty. "That thing sounds terrible."

"I told you I needed new strings!" said Adam. He stood. Thankfully Shitty’s nakedness did not spread to his friends; Adam wore a white tunic cinched at one shoulder and a crown of green laurels upon his head. As they approached Jack could see he, like Alicia, had hair the color of the sun, but he also had some of the largest teeth Jack had ever seen.

"Who is this?" Adam asked with a general wave toward Jack.

"This is my buddy for the day, Jack," said Shitty. "He is Bob and Alicia’s son."

"Alicia," said Adam with an approving nod. "That is a woman I’d like to get on this stage. I bet your mom has a beautiful singing voice."

"She does," said Jack. Shitty climbed the steps on one side of the stage, so Jack followed. Adam extended a hand to Jack, which Jack shook. Adam stood a few inches taller than Jack, but Adam’s shoulders were just as broad and his arms just as big as Jack’s.

"Do you live here?" Adam asked. "I don’t think I’ve seen you before."

"No," said Jack. "My mother and I live on Earth. We till the land."

"Ah, sounds boring," said Adam, which caused Jack to frown. "Shits, you got those strings for my lyre?"

"I think you mean  _ my _ lyre," said Shitty. He took the instrument from Adam and sat on the stage. Jack watched as he carefully removed the strings and replaced them with a new set that he carried inside his satchel. As he replaced each one he wound it tightly around a spoke near the end, which he turned, then strummed, then turned again. Jack did not speak and Adam did not seem to feel that was acceptable.

"Where you guys going today?" Adam asked.

"To the sea," said Jack.

"You travel together a lot?"

"No," said Jack.

"How often are you around if you live on Earth with your mother?"

"Not often."

"Do you like it here?"

"It’s different than home."

"Do you have an instrument at home?"

"No."

"What do you do all day, then?"

"Work."

"All done," said Shitty. He strummed the lyre and it sounded more pleasant than before.

"You rock, Shits," said Adam. He took the lyre from Shitty and began playing a complicated melody upon it.

Shitty bopped his head in tempo with the music. "Yeah, that sounds better. Let me know sooner than later if they wear out again, okay? I can make them in a jiffy." Adam nodded but did not look up from his fingers on the strings. "All right, we gotta scoot. Lots to do today."

"Thanks, man," said Adam. Shitty and Jack left the stage and headed back up an aisle to the red curtain where they had entered. "Wait, Shits, come here a second."

Shitty nodded toward the exit. "I’ll be right there. Check out the statues in the hall, they’re of the different singers who’ve performed here. They’re all awesome." Jack continued on alone. Once he passed through the curtain he could hear them speak again; neither seemed to be able to lower the volume of their voice.

"Bro, has your friend always been this bitchy?" Adam’s voice said. Jack frowned. "I know he’s Bob’s kid and all, but seriously, that doesn’t give you an excuse to have your head that far up your own ass."

"Nah, man, he’s just quiet. Lay off, he doesn’t interact with a lot of people."

"Chyeah, I can tell."

Jack turned a corner and headed quickly away; he did not wish to hear the rest of their conversation, nor did he care about the statues in the hallway. He had seen them and they were not special. He unfortunately got lost within moments; there were several twists and turns that Jack was unfamiliar with, and he ended up in a room at the back of the palace near the river, containing a large water organ. He remembered his mother reading to him about organs. He and Alicia sang together sometimes, but silence was preferable, and like he had told Adam, they had no instrument of their own. Jack pressed down upon one of the keys and a deep tone sounded from the pipes. He pressed again and it played another note. It was pleasant.

"There you are," said Shitty. Jack looked over his shoulder. Shitty threw his hands up in the air. "I’ve been looking all over for you! I ran into Jeff in the foyer and he gave me another message to send. It’s for a demigod who lives down in Thessaly. It’s on the way to the sea — do you mind if we drop it off?"

"No, that’s fine," said Jack. "Will this demigod be like Adam?"

"You didn’t like him either, huh?" Shitty asked.

"He is loud and prefers conversation to silence."

"Yeah, yeah he does," said Shitty. "It’s his nature. You can’t be the god of music and poetry and enjoy the silence. I can’t fault the guy for that."

"The lyre that you repaired," said Jack. "Did you make it?"

"Yeah! He sounds way better playing it than me."

"I liked it," said Jack.

"You should see my pipe," said Shitty with a laugh. "Let’s get going. I don’t know this Kent guy, I just know he and Jeff are tight. Jeff’s pretty cool for a demigod. Total hero amongst men."

"Are all demigods heroes?" Jack asked.

"They usually turn out that way," said Shitty.

The journey from Adam’s front steps to the palace of Kent, the King of Thessaly, took longer than the first trip. Shitty flew upon the land faster than the wind, which made speech difficult. Jack did not mind. When Shitty set him down again, Jack asked, "How is it that you run so quickly? Is it the shoes?"

"No, but they help. The nudity is what makes me fast." Jack laughed. "Ha, see! You like it."

"It can’t possibly be that you are naked."

"It doesn’t hurt," said Shitty with a shrug. "I am the god of travel, so I travel faster than anyone else. The shoes were a gift from your father the day he made me his messenger. Still, it’s going to take us a while to get all the way to Atlantis and back, so let’s drop this off and be on our way."

They entered the palace. Two guards in bronze armor stood on either side of the doors; they were the very first mortals Jack had ever seen. Apart from their less-than-appealing features and armored garb, they were no different in appearance than Shitty or Adam. Jack was disappointed by this as he had hoped there would be an obvious distinction. They seemed to recognize the divinity within Jack and Shitty for they bowed and allowed them through the door with no objection.

Kent, the King of Thessaly, was in his throne room but not upon his throne. He stood with his back to them as he looked out one of his arched windows. His hair, like Adam’s, was golden but, unlike Adam’s, was unruly and streaked with sunlight. He wore a black cloak lined with red and white. "Your majesty," said Shitty. Kent turned and Jack stopped in his tracks; the unruliness of his hair was worst upon his forehead, but it suited his thin face. His eyes were clear but the color was difficult to pinpoint, as if they changed with the light. His tunic was short; the same shade as his cloak, and cinched like Adam’s had been, exposing the muscles of half his chest and his thick, strong legs.

Kent looked Jack up and down first, one side of his lips tilted upward into a smirk, which caused heat to rise in Jack’s cheeks in a way he had never felt before. Then Kent looked at Shitty.

"Two gods to deliver a message? This must be very important."

"It’s just coincidence," said Shitty. "Jack, the god of spring, is my companion today as we travel to Atlantis to visit the sea king."

"You know what the gods say of coincidence," said Kent. "It does not exist."

Kent’s voice was smooth and silky like a warm midday breeze. It made Jack feel full inside but also, simultaneously, very uncomfortable. Kent did not break his gaze from Jack’s eyes until Shitty stepped forward with the letter in hand.

"Your friend Jeff, demigod and hero of the Six Labors, delivers you words of respect and invites you to travel with him upon his return from Mount Olympus," said Shitty. He handed Kent the letter.

"Thank you," said Kent. "And what say you, god of the spring?"

"I unfortunately have no message for you," said Jack.

"Such a shame," said Kent. He stepped forward into a beam of light, which caught his hair and thus, Jack’s eye. Kent’s smirk grew into a full smile, which caused Jack’s heart to beat unnecessarily hard inside of his chest. There had been no stairs to Kent’s throne and Jack was not out of breath, yet he felt winded and worn. "Do you and your companion travel together often?"

"No," said Jack with a shake of his head. "We have just met, in fact. He is the messenger of my father."

"Bob is your father?" Kent asked. Jack nodded. "Impressive."

"We are together so I may see more of the land," said Jack.

"And do you like what you have seen so far?" Kent asked.

"Very much so."

"All right, god of the spring," said Shitty. He stepped in between Kent and Jack. "I’m sorry to break up what I’m sure will be an interesting conversation, but the sun lowers with every passing minute and we have a long journey ahead. Good day, Kent, King of Thessaly."

"And good day to you, Jack."

Jack continued to stare into Kent’s eyes, which sparkled with his smiles. Shitty physically turned Jack around and took him out of the palace. Once outside, Jack looked at the sky; Larissa was not yet near her apex.

"It is not yet midday," said Jack. "Why did you force us out so soon?"

"Because I’m here to show you the land and the sea and that is it. I’m not waiting for Camilla to strike you both and then have to explain to your father how you fell for a demigod."

"What? Camilla, the goddess of love?" Jack asked. "What are you talking about?"

"Two minutes more and you and King Thessaly would have been boning on the floor. I promised to have you back by evening."

"Boning? What?" Jack asked. Shitty and Larissa both had their own unique style of speech, most of which Jack was able to follow, but as he stood there on the stone in front of Kent’s door, he felt more confused than ever. Shitty stopped speeding ahead and turned around. He approached Jack quickly and lowered his voice for the first time that day.

"Jack. Please tell me you know what sex is."

Jack felt it best not to reply.

"Oh my gods," said Shitty. "Oh my gods, have Bob and Alicia never had the talk with you? Have you never in your life whacked off?"

"I do not follow," said Jack, shaking his head. Shitty turned around and looked at the sun.

"Okay, we have some time," he said. "First, we’re going to get away from here. I have feeling that after you hear what I have to say, you’ll want to return. Hop on." Jack hopped upon Shitty’s back and he ran for several minutes through the open fields of Thessaly until they could no longer see the palace. He stopped in an orchard of olive trees. There were no people for miles. Jack picked a sprig of olives from a branch and began to pit them. Fresh olives were usually bitter, but Jack sat underneath the tree to eat them anyway.

"How old are you, Jack?" Shitty asked.

"Seventeen," replied Jack.

"Fuck, man, are you late to the game," said Shitty. "How have your parents, both of your parents, never mentioned sex before? Didn’t you ever wonder why sometimes your penis gets hard?"

The words were not a good combination for the bitter olive Jack placed inside of his mouth. He coughed and sputtered, but Shitty just looked at him incredulously.

"No," Jack finally said. "I’ve never thought about it."

"But your cock’s gotten hard, yeah?"

Jack was forced to nod.

"Okay. Good. At least I know what I’m working with here. Here’s the down and dirty. When you find someone who appeals to you, your cock gets hard. You know, sometimes it doesn’t even have to be a person. There’s some crazy shit out there with the gods who live up on Mount Olympus. I’m not going to go into any of that. So say you see a person, a man or a woman, and your cock gets hard. If they think you’re cool too, you can have sex. Most of us don’t recommend sex right away, but like I said. Crazy shit. If you’re into women, which I don’t know if you are but I’ll explain it anyway, you stick your cock in their pussy a few times, you come, you make sure she comes, and that’s how it’s done."

"What’s that? Coming?" Jack asked.

"When shit flies out of your cock. It feels awesome. After you get home — AFTER, don’t do it when I’m around — put your hand on your cock and rub it for a while." Shitty grabbed his genitals and the movement was so sudden that Jack looked. He regretted looking. "You’ll have an orgasm and you will love it."

"What if it’s a man?" Jack asked.

"It’s a little more complicated if it’s a man, but you’ve got some options. A man doesn’t have a pussy, obviously, but assholes are just as good."

Jack’s eyes narrowed. "That sounds painful."

"Nah, man, you just have to be prepared for it. Loosen it up first." Shitty gestured to the olives in Jack’s hand. "Use oil as a lubricant. If that freaks you out, you can just put a cock in your mouth. There’s a couple of different options here. Find what feels good and keep at it."

"And people do this?"

"All the fucking time, brah," said Shitty. "All these mortals didn’t sprout from nothing."

"Is that it?" Jack asked.

"Yep. I need to tell you to be careful about it. If someone’s not into you, don’t make them do it, even if you want to. They have to want to as well. There’s also something to be said about love too. It’s all cool if you have sex with whoever you want, but there are people out there who only want to physically love the people that they romantically love. They wait until the time is right or until after they are married. That’s okay too, and if you can hold out, then that’s the way to go. Find the one person who is special to you and let sex be a special thing you share."

Jack was surprised by the fondness on Shitty’s face when he spoke of love. "Is there someone who is special to you?" Jack asked.

"Bruh. Rude."

"How is that rude?" Jack asked in surprise.

"Sometimes the people you love are far away."

"I feel like nothing is far for you," said Jack.

"Sometimes," Shitty continued, "they do not love you in return. Or I guess sometimes you don’t know if they love you in return. It’s not always easy."

Jack did not ask more questions. Shitty allowed him to eat the rest of his olives before he urged them on again. The act of climbing onto Shitty’s back felt even more awkward after their discussion, but Jack pushed the thought away. He had no desire to have sex with Shitty. As Shitty began to run south, Jack looked over his shoulder toward Kent’s palace, which was too far away to be seen. It would have been nice to have sex with Kent, but Shitty’s warning of love had weight to it. Perhaps he would save it for the one he loved.

They reached the shore just after midday. Jack was just about to question how they would reach Atlantis, an island far out at sea, but Shitty simply continued through the sand and atop the water. His legs moved too quickly to sink below the surface. The water splashed behind them like a boat in a storm, two tall waves forming from Shitty’s steps.

The life of the water rose to the surface in curiosity. Jack and his mother sometimes ate fish from the rivers on Earth, but Jack had never seen the porpoises that swam along Shitty’s side in an attempt to keep up. They hopped in and out of the water but fell quickly behind. Shitty did not slow at the sight of them, and Jack feared if he did they would sink underneath the water and drown.

Atlantis was a half hour’s run from the shore. Jack had seen it from above on Larissa’s chariot, but the majesty of the island had been served no justice from that distance. The entire kingdom was made of blue crystal and the palace was the central focus with several smaller buildings surrounding it. The Nereids watched them approach from both under the water and along the shore. Many of them had developed fins like the fish in order to aid the submerged portion of their life, each slightly blue in color. Jack could not tell from this distance or speed if the color came from within or was due to the reflection of the blue crystals upon their skin.

Shitty ran all the way to the palace steps, much more grand in size than those that led to Adam’s home. There he let Jack off his back and together they climbed to the grand entryway, where they were stopped by a man holding a trident.

"What is your business in Atlantis?" he asked Shitty.

"I have a message for the god of the sea from the god of the sky."

"What is your business?" he asked Jack.

"The god of the sky is my father," said Jack. "I only wish to accompany this messenger upon his delivery."

The guard seemed appeased by this but did not allow them unchaperoned entry. He accompanied the pair of them through the entryway, up a second set of stairs to the throne room where the god of the sea sat upon a throne in the center of the room, wearing robes of teal and holding a black trident. To his right sat a woman in robes of the same color, her brown hair cascading down to her shoulders.

The god of the sea leapt to his feet upon sight of them.

"Shitty!" he said with enthusiasm.

"Chowder," replied Shitty. "I have a letter for you."

"Excellent! Who is this?"

"Chowder, this is Bob’s son, Jack. Jack, this is Chris, god of the sea, commonly known as Chowder."

"I don’t really understand why. It’s not even my favorite food," said Chowder with a frown. "I’m very pleased to meet you, Jack. I have heard much about you from Bob, but I have to say when the two of you entered, I at first thought you were him."

"I have been told we look much alike," said Jack.

"You do. Jack, this is my wife, Caitlin. She’s the most beautiful Nereid in the city of Atlantis, and the most beautiful woman on the earth." Caitlin chuckled at this and rolled her eyes, as if this were her most common introduction. Jack approached her and kissed her hand; she was a beautiful woman indeed, but Chowder must have seen her with different eyes.

"It is a pleasure to meet both of you," said Jack.

"It is not often I have the privilege of such royalty under my roof!" said Chowder. "You must stay for dinner."

"It would be an honor, Chowder, but I’m afraid I promised Jack back to Mount Olympus by nightfall," said Shitty. "We would be happy to do so another time."

"You can name the day," said Chowder.

"If you must decline our invitation," said Caitlin, "may I request that you deliver a message for me to Justin of Ithaca? It is on the way back to the mountain."

"I would be delighted, madam," said Shitty. He retrieved a letter from Caitlin and they all said their goodbyes before Shitty and Jack left. Jack wished they could have stayed longer; both Chowder and Caitlin were the most pleasant people he had met that day.

"It’s just a hop and a skip to the west," said Shitty after they had left the palace. "It won’t take us far out of the way and we’ll have enough time to chill before I take you back to Bob." Shitty looked at the letter in his hand. "I hope this will go over well. Caitlin does not bring good news." Jack looked at the sealed scroll in Shitty’s hand.

"Did you read it?" Jack asked. "I know you to be fast but you cannot be that fast."

"It’s all part of my charm, Jack," said Shitty and he tapped the letter to his head. "They tell me the contents without even knowing they have done so. I don’t know if you have heard the phrase ‘Don’t shoot the messenger’ but it’s something I’ve had to say several times since I began this work for your father. I might be immortal, but one of these days an angry god is going to send me to the underworld for good."

Jack frowned and decided not to bring up his questions about the underworld just yet. Shitty had been very forthcoming so far and Jack was certain he’d be forthcoming about death as well.

Ithaca was indeed a hop and a skip away; it did not take more than a minute to arrive there once Shitty began running over the water again. Justin, according to Shitty, was the King of Ithaca and one of the greatest heroes among mortal men. Some kind of unrest was brewing in the mainland amongst the other mortals, and Justin was searching for the strongest defensemen he could find.

They were shown into the hall with little fanfare; Justin sat at the head of a long table filled with food and several others who looked like family. He stood upon sight of Shitty and ushered them into a separate room. "Bro," he said, much like Adam had that morning. "Where are your clothes? My nieces are here."

"Sorry dude," said Shitty. "I have a letter from Caitlin, Nereid and goddess of the sea."

Justin tsked.

"I bet you do," he said.

"Now don’t kill the messenger," said Shitty with a glance at Jack. "I’m just here to deliver it. I have no opinion on the contents inside." Shitty handed over the scroll to Justin. "Caitlin, Nereid and goddess of the sea, pleads with you to cease your search for her son, Will, and his dearest friend Derek."

"Well you can tell Caitlin that her son is the strongest warrior in the land and she should not have hidden him from me. War is coming, god of travel, and I need all the help I can get."

"Sorry bro," said Shitty. He placed both of his hands in the air. "The letter is the only reason I’m here. If you want to reply to Caitlin, you can send a message yourself. Until then, we apologize for interrupting your lunch and offending your family. We’ll get out of your hair now."

Justin’s expression softened. "There are no hard feelings here, dude," he said. "You are just messengers." Justin looked at Jack. "You. You look very strong. Do you wish to join the fight?"

"Jack is the god of the spring," said Shitty. "He does not fight."

"Shame," said Justin. "You’d be good at it."

They left quickly. Jack hopped on Shitty’s back a final time and they returned, over the course of the afternoon, back to Mount Olympus. It was still far from nightfall when Shitty began up the trails that led to Bob’s palace. Shitty did not go to Bob’s palace, however, and instead let Jack down halfway up the mountain at a home that looked like it needed repair. It was made of wood and had two levels. The second level included a portion of the roof that could be accessed via windows; chairs had been placed there with a view at the valley below.

Shitty went inside; no one else was there. This was clearly his house. Shitty turned to the right and fell down onto a ratted green chaise. He looked exhausted but did not close his eyes; he instead looked at his hearth, where several logs were clinging to the embers of a fire that had long since extinguished. "Ah, man," he said. "Jack, you’re the son of the sky, right? You can control weather and shit?"

"Yes," said Jack.

"Can you conjure me a lightning bolt and start the fire again?"

"I am not as skilled as my father," said Jack. "I might set your house ablaze."

"Eh, I’m cool with that. Try it out for me."

Jack moved in front of the hearth so Shitty and his chaise were not in between them. He took in a deep breath and clenched his fist. When he opened it again, a small bolt lay in his hand. He tossed at the logs. A boom resonated through the house, startling Shitty to the point where he collapsed onto the floor, but a moment later fire crackled in the logs again.

"There you are," said Jack with a grin. Shitty grumbled and climbed back onto his chaise. Jack sat on the floor next to the hearth.

"Do you smoke, Jack?" Shitty asked. Jack shook his head out of confusion.

"Smoke what?"

"Bro! You’re the god of the spring and the son of Alicia and you haven’t smoked?" Shitty asked. "The plants you make are not only good for eating and cooking, but you can totally smoke it and get high as fuck. I want you to try it. It’s how I end every day — after running as fast as the wings on your feet can carry you, you really need something to slow you down."

In a basket next to the chaise sat a satchel. Shitty opened it and showed Jack a handful of buds. Jack recognized them from a plant he tended in one of the gardens, but he had never utilized them for anything. Shitty also extracted a small bowl on the end of a stick. He stuffed the buds into the bowl and lit them on fire with a long stick and the flames from the hearth. Jack was horrified.

"You burn it?" Jack asked.

Shitty exhaled the smoke into the air. "Well yeah," he said. "That’s how you smoke it."

"I don’t like that at all," said Jack.

"What, like the plant has feelings? Those olives you picked off the tree earlier, were they screaming when you ate them?"

"No," said Jack, "but I can feel it when you light them."

"Maybe if you smoke it, you won’t feel it anymore. Here, use my pipe." Jack took the pipe and stick from Shitty. "Inhale when you light it. It’s going to suck going down but you’ll feel awesome after." Jack did as instructed. He felt the familiar discomfort in his hands when he lit the buds aflame, but concentrated instead on inhaling the smoke they produced. Shitty was right that it was not pleasant to experience, but after he did feel calmer.

They passed the pipe back and forth a few times, Jack sinking further and further down the wall with each exhale of smoke until he was laying flat on the floor. The ceiling in the room was not well made. Jack wondered if Shitty built the house himself.

"Nah, the bros down the road helped me out. They did a shit job," Shitty said.

Jack’s eyes narrowed.

"Can you hear my thoughts?" he asked.

"I’m pretty sure you said that out loud."

"Oh, good," said Jack.

"Do you have thoughts you don’t want me to hear?" Shitty asked.

Jack was unable to control what entered his mind; he thought of Shitty being sent to the underworld for good, as if it were a place one could never leave. Shitty said nothing to this, so Jack was confident in the security of his mind, but still asked the question verbally.

"My father sends you many places, does he not?" Jack asked.

"Yep. He’s in charge of everyone and everything, so he has business everywhere."

"Does he ever send you to the underworld?"

"Not often, but he has. Why the fuck would you ask about that place? It’s horrible and so is everything in it. Pass me the pipe."

Jack handed the pipe back to Shitty. It was not the answer he desired and he was afraid to push the topic further. He felt it in his hands when Shitty lit the buds aflame again. He groaned.

"Ugh, I still do not like the feeling of this," said Jack. "Do you know you cause me torment with each inhale?"

"Sorry, bruh, but I guess that’s the price you pay as the son of the goddess of the earth. Don’t worry, you’ll be home soon and you and your mother can spend the rest of your days loving the land and doing whatever the fuck it is you do there."

Jack was silent for many minutes.

"I am afraid that I will not be able to love the land like my mother," said Jack.

"What makes you think that?"

"She does it with such ease and has such confidence that I will be the same. What if I am not the same? What if I fall out of my maple tree again and the lightning sets fire to all? What if I am unable to do what I was born to do?"

"Bruh," said Shitty. "You need to chill."

Shitty handed the pipe back and Jack took it. Later, when the buds had no smoke left in them, the sun was low in the sky and Jack was worried he would miss his father’s deadline. He sat up and all of the parts of his body felt heavy.

"Shitty," he said. "We must go."

"Right, right," said Shitty. "You look high as fuck. Your father will kill me."

"What?" Jack asked, but Shitty had already picked Jack up off the ground and attempted to lift Jack onto his back. Jack did not cooperate and ended up on the floor again. They both burst into giggles and Shitty attempted to pick him up again, but Jack batted him away. "No, no, I can do it. We should go outside first."

"Are you afraid I’m going to run you into a wall?"

"Yes."

"It’s possible. Yeah, let’s go outside."

They walked outside and Jack jumped onto Shitty’s back. Before he started to run, Jack leaned close to his ear. "I enjoyed our time today," Jack said. "I hope we can be friends."

"Brah, we are friends."

Shitty headed up the trail to the palace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here’s a guide on who Shitty and Jack met on their journey:
> 
> Holster = Apollo, god of light as well as music and poetry, and actually a lot of of other things. In mythology, Hermes makes Apollo a lyre and they become friends.
> 
> Jeff (Swoops) = Theseus, the demigod who defeated the minotaur
> 
> Parse = Pirithous, Theseus’s best friend and another demigod. Pirithous has an interesting story that you should look up :)
> 
> Caitlin Farmer = Thetis, a Nereid (sea nymph) and goddess of the water
> 
> Dex = Achilles and Nursey = Patroclus. Make of that what you will!
> 
> Ransom = Odysseus, King of Ithaca


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is a tiny bit of Pimms at the beginning of this one, so if that bothers you, skip the first five-ish paragraphs.
> 
> Thanks to my betas [Luckie](archiveofourown.org/users/luckie_dee) and [Kayci](http://zimmerbittle.tumblr.com/)!

Jack remembered much of what he and Shitty discussed during their day together, but he did not follow Shitty’s advice until several weeks later. He was alone in his favorite part of the meadow, looking up at the stars. The lion was directly overhead again. He was eager for this birthday; in the morning he and his mother were to travel from the earth for the first time to the city of Eleusis. Alicia had taught him very much, but as they ate dinner that evening, she said there was something else she wished him to know, and she would tell him there.

The moon was full that evening. It passed the constellation of the lion, marking the end of his seventeenth year and the beginning of his eighteenth. It excited him and in that excitement he thought of the King of Thessaly, whose hair was golden and eyes ever changing. Jack remembered the way that Kent had looked at him, and the memory stirred between his legs.

He lay alone in the grass. The night was warm, dark enough for slumber but lit enough by the moon to see. He looked at the treetops of the forest in the east and then back at the cloudless sky. There was nothing and no one there, so he hiked up the edge of his tunic and placed his hand on himself. It already felt good, so he slid his hand up and down and had to bite his lip to keep quiet. He continued on and thought again of Kent, of how it would feel if Kent crossed the throne room and touched Jack between the legs instead. Shitty was not there to step between them. Kent’s hand was firm and quick as he stoked Jack’s cock.

"Oh gods," Jack whispered.

He remembered what Shitty said about mouths; he envisioned Kent dropping to his knees and placing his mouth around Jack’s cock instead, but before anything further could happen an explosion occurred inside of Jack. He opened his eyes and looked down; he had spurted all over his bare skin. Jack took in several breaths to calm his racing heart; clouds had covered the moon and the stars but cleared with each exhale. Jack wiped the substance off but still his skin was sticky. He would need to bathe to remove it completely. He took off his tunic and headed to the nearby stream. Shitty was right. He loved it.

The following morning Alicia roused him early, just before dawn. Jack felt embarrassed to be woken by her, which was a first, but he had bathed thoroughly in the stream and no trace of what had transpired was left behind. The trip to Eleusis was a full day’s travel without a horse. The journey was long but pleasant in his mother’s company. She held onto his arm when they spoke.

"I am glad that you have been able to see so much of the world," she said as they neared the city. From this distance Jack could see the cluster of homes even larger than the forest; Athens, the capital, was not their destination, but Eleusis was not far from it. "My dear friend Georgia is the Queen of Eleusis. I know you briefly met mortals when you traveled with your father’s messenger, but we will be able to spend much time with George and her family. She has six sons, some of whom are your age."

The Eleusinian palace was a rounded rectangle with glass plates covering the sides, tinted an odd shade of green. Jack and Alicia ascended a wide stone staircase and were greeted by a woman in a royal cloak at the first landing; she stood in the center of a red bricked circle, several black pillars surrounding her with words etched into the bases such as COURAGE, DUTY, and LOYALTY. When Alicia reached the landing she let go of Jack’s arm and ran to her friend. They embraced and laughed, full of joy to be reunited with each other.

"George, this is my son Jack," introduced Alicia. George pulled Jack into a hug as well; she was fit and solid, nearly as tall as he, with light brown skin and brown hair. Jack found her beautiful, the way that Larissa or his mother was beautiful.

"It is nice to meet you, Jack. You both must be weary from your journey. We are just about to sit for dinner. Jack, you will enjoy the company of my sons. They are ridiculous children, to say the least, but they are all good men."

George brought them inside the palace; the glass plates in the windows kept the extensive building warm, which was unnecessary back home. At home the weather was always warm and it only rained when Jack wished it so. They were brought to their rooms first. Jack had seen the field in front of the palace and would rather sleep there, but thanked George for the expensive furnishings that made up the bedroom she designated to him. After they were shown Alicia’s room, they were escorted to the dining room where the six sons waited.

Guy was first, the eldest and largest. Marty next, his hair dark like Jack’s. Third was Thirdy, whose actual name was Randall, fourth was Snowy, then fifth Alexei, and finally Poots. When Jack asked why he was called Poots, the five other sons and George laughed but they never explained. Jack sat at the wooden table between Marty and Alexei. Alexei spoke to him immediately.

"You and Marty look alike," said Alexei, gesturing to Marty. When Jack looked closer at the man next to him, who was older by at least a decade, Jack agreed. "Maybe you have same father?"

"Alexei, don’t joke about such things," said George from the head of the table. When Jack looked around, he realized that there were places at the table for George, the six sons, and Jack and Alicia, but if there was a King of Eleusis, he would not be present for dinner.

"Jack, you and Alicia harvest the earth, is that correct?" Marty asked.

"Yes," said Jack. "Almost everything on the table was created by my mother and named by me, including the wood for this table."

"You named this?" asked Alexei and shoved a boiled potato in front of Jack’s face. Jack laughed and nodded. "Potato is bad name. Should be named tater."

"I am sorry I named it incorrectly," said Jack with another laugh.

"Alexei, you’re being rude," said Marty.

"It’s fine," said Jack. "What else did I name wrong, Tater?"

"I am not Tater, I’m Alexei," said Alexei.

"No, I think I will call you Tater now," said Jack.

Tater spent the rest of the meal shoving food in Jack’s face and explaining what he should have done differently while naming and, later, after Jack also explained that he painted flowers, what their colors should have been as well. Most of his names were just shorter versions of Jack’s names, which Jack found amusing, but Tater also said that the grapes that were crushed to make their wine should have been called something like  _ vinograd. _

After dinner, which consisted of several courses and multiple glasses of wine, Jack and Alicia wished for bed. It had been a long day, so Marty accompanied them back to their rooms. "I apologize for Alexei’s behavior at dinner," said Marty to Jack. Alicia had sat directly next to George and heard little of the conversation. Jack shook his head again.

"No, it was amusing," said Jack.

"He’s not like the rest of us. After he was born, he spent much of his life with our father overseas. He’s only been home for a few years."

"I like him," said Jack.

"I’m glad," said Marty. "I hope your stay here is pleasant. I understand you are going to see the theatre tomorrow?"

Alicia nodded. "Yes, Jack and I have much to do while we are here. I trust we are not interrupting anything?"

"No, no one plays the theatre this week. You may take all the time you need to do your work."

Marty said goodnight shortly after. Jack also said goodnight to his mother and headed down the hall. "You’re not sleeping in your room?" Alicia asked.

"No, I will sleep outside."

"Be safe. This is not like home."

Her words proved true. The grass in front of the palace was cool and comfortable, vast enough that he was not afraid to be interrupted by the royal family or their servants, but when Jack sat in a patch of iris, he could see the buzzing of flies in the rich moonlight. None of them bothered him, but when he lay on his back he could hear more sounds; the chirping of crickets, the rustle of deer in the nearby forest, the sounds of laughter from inside the palace. He was separate from them all but he was not alone.

The following morning Jack and Alicia traveled to the theatre, a fifteen minute walk from the palace. It was gigantic, much larger than the one built inside Adam’s palace. The stage was circular with a hundred rows of seats spreading out like a fan in front of it. Alicia and Jack entered from behind and Alicia stood on another smaller circle at the center of the stage.

"This is a beautiful place," she said, and Jack agreed. "When George built the theater I visited her and listened to the first performances that were done here. I did not wish to be a disruption so I sat as far back as I could." Alicia pointed to the furthest row. "I could still hear everything perfectly."

Jack climbed the one hundred steps and sat down in the final row. Alicia spoke and while her voice was not as clear as it had been when he stood at her side, he had no trouble understanding her.

"Can you hear me, my love?" she asked.

"Yes," he said. "Can you hear me?"

"Yes! Oh, wonderful. This place never ceases to amaze me."

"What god made this theatre?" Jack asked, although he felt as if he knew the answer already. Alicia laughed and the pealing melody of her voice rang throughout the stands, loud and clear.

"Jack, the mortals are not fools. They can build something this beautiful without the aid of the gods. You are a man, yes, but there is still so much for you to learn. Come back down and let me teach you."

He returned to the stage; they sat together in the first row and looked at the view behind it. The sky was bright and blue. The mountains in the distance were capped with white snow. The city of Eleusis was built in arched rows like the seats behind them. "What do you think of the city, Jack?" she asked.

"It is beautiful," said Jack.

"And what is beauty, Jack?"

"Beauty is that which appeals to you, which makes you happy when you look upon it."

"What is the opposite of beauty?"

Jack thought first of his trip across the sky with Larissa. She was up there again this morning, her chariot low in the east, her journey just beginning. He thought of what he saw when he asked her about the underworld.

"The desert," said Jack.

"Why the desert?"

"I do not feel happy when I see it. There is nothing there but sand. It does not rain."

"I believe it was Larissa who first spoke to you of balance," she said. "It is true for all things. For you to understand what is beautiful, you must know what it means to be plain. To know happiness you must know unhappiness. What we grow in the earth provides sustenance, but there is fruit that we grow, and you have painted, that no one should ever eat. We remove the weeds from the plants that we wish to flourish. It goes beyond just what comes from the ground, Jack. The sunshine cannot be appreciated without the night, and the gentle breeze cannot be enjoyed without the contrast of the thunderstorm. Life cannot exist without death."

Jack felt his heart flutter in his chest when he asked the question. "What is death?"

"I told you that when we bury the seed in the earth it is not ours until it sprouts above the ground again. It belongs to the god of the underworld. Everything that is mortal must die, not just the people, but the animals and the harvest. Remember when you fell in your sleep and lightning struck the cinnamon tree?" Jack nodded. "Had the rain not come, the tree would have burned to ash. It would have died. It would no longer grow, no longer bear the spice that we use in our meals. It would belong to the god of the underworld and we would never have it again."

Jack thought of that; he loved cinnamon. They put it in their bread every morning. He thought of a world without it, a world where the cinnamon he once loved was gone and would never return. He missed it like he missed his mother when he traveled, but in a way that never ended.

"That is what happens to all things eventually," said Alicia. "The fish that we sometimes catch in the stream, it is cut open and cooked over the fire so that we may have dinner. When the fish is taken from water it can no longer breathe and it is gone forever."

Jack felt sick. There had been fish at dinner the previous night. He ate it.

"We ate something that was dead?"

"Everything we eat is dead, Jack, in one way or another. The cinnamon tree does not know that it died. The fish, while more alive than the tree, does not know that it died."

"But we ate it and it no longer exists?" Jack asked.

"There are many fish in the sea, Jack, just as there are many people in the world. The mortals we dined with last night, someday they too will die. Their life is not like ours. We will remain forever, to do our work and provide for their children and their grandchildren. They may live to see their grandchildren, if they are healthy and do right, but not much more than that."

"But George, she is one of your friends."

"Yes."

"Someday she will be gone?"

"Yes, Jack. That it is the way it is for the mortals. George is one of my favorite friends but this will undoubtedly be my final visit with her. I do not leave our home very often, as I cannot neglect my duties to the land. I will miss her greatly when she travels to Elysium."

"What is Elysium?" Jack asked.

"One of the lands in the underworld. Everyone and everything goes to the underworld when they die to be judged by the god who reigns supreme over them. The good go to Elysium. The others do not."

"Where do they go?" Jack asked. "Tartarus?"

Alicia was quiet for several moments.

"Where did you learn of Tartarus?" Alicia asked.

"Papa said the Titans were banished there."

She was thin lipped when she responded. "They were. It is a place of eternal pain and discomfort, and those who do wrong in life must live there forever."

Jack did not wish to imagine it.

"What makes a person do wrong?" Jack asked.

"Many things. The mortals do not always do good. The gods do not always do good either, as your father must have told you when he mentioned the Titans. There are many kinds of wrong; you can speak something other than the truth, you may deliberately choose words that are hurtful, you may take what is not yours, and worst of all, you may do harm to others. The gods and the Titans went to war, and they fought against each other. They deliberately harmed each other because they could not agree. You know what it felt like when you fell from the tree. The pain they caused was immeasurably worse."

"Is that like the war that Justin of Ithaca says is coming?"

Alicia nodded. "Many things have led to the war that is brewing in the land. When it is over, hundreds of thousands of people will have died at the hands of each other."

Jack looked again at the houses in Eleusis. There were just hundreds. He thought of all the people who lived in the city and thought of the end of their existence. All of their homes erased. All of their happiness ended. He thought of Tater the night before, laughing as he shoved fruit in front of Jack’s face and asked, "Why blueberry? Is purple! Why blue-berry?" Then he thought of Tater on the floor, as blue as the berry, lifeless and no more.

The rain began before Jack even realized he had done it.

"Jack, sweetie, no," said Alicia. She placed both hands on the sides of his face. "I know this is not easy to hear, but this is the world that exists. I am not telling you this to upset you. You must understand the way death works to appreciate life. There may not be good in death, but we bring good to the world in the form of life. Think of how happy you were the day you finally painted the flowers. I found you with a wreath on your head."

"Why did you not tell me this sooner?" Jack asked. The rain did not cease. "How could you let me go this many years without knowing that death has such a sting?"

"I needed you to be able to understand that there is not just a sting. There is light and laughter and happiness. George’s son last night, Alexei. He had so much fun with you."

Jack stood; he could still see Tater unmoving on the ground.

"I cannot hear any more of this."

Alicia did not stop him as he left. The rain continued as he entered the palace and climbed the stairs to his room. He did not remember which one it was, so he guessed, and he guessed incorrectly. He walked into the room that Tater occupied, which was the last person he wished to see. Tater, however, did not feel the same way.

"Jack!" he said heartily. "Come for more corrections on food? I thought of more. Why barley? Why not brown stalk of healthy?"

Despite himself, Jack smiled. Tater invited him inside and Jack sat at the table on the left end of the room. Tater was playing with an iron rod from the hearth and a ball on the floor, which he pushed back and forth. "What are you doing?" Jack asked.

"Playing game. There is another rod if you wish to play with me. I try to get ball in fire. You try to get ball through door."

Jack picked up the rod from the fireplace and attempted to steal the ball from Tater. They ran back and forth across the room, the light gradually increasing as the storm outside cleared up. By the time the sun reappeared, Jack had pushed the ball through the door three times and Tater had only gotten it into the hearth once.

"You are fast, Jack," said Tater after Jack hit the ball through the door a fourth time. "Not fair playing against god."

"Do you wish to stop?" Jack asked. Tater shook his head.

"You strong too, I bet," said Tater. "You should come with my brothers when we fight in war."

Jack stopped in his steps and Tater shot the ball into the hearth. He raised both his hands in the air and yelled in celebration.

"You and your brothers are going to the war?" Jack asked.

"Yes. All men must go to war. Is big war."

"Why is the war happening?" Jack asked.

"I don’t know. I just know when war happens men must protect homeland."

"But you will die!" said Jack.

"Is part of life," said Tater with a shrug. "And I strong. Not as strong as Guy but strong for sure. I defend land well and maybe not die."

"Aren’t you afraid of dying?" Jack asked. "You know what happens when you die, right?"

"Yes. I go to Elysium in underworld and live forever in fields of peace."

Jack frowned.

"But it is forever. You will never return. If you die and your brothers do not, you will never see them again." Tater shrugged again and Jack did not understand his behavior. "Why do you not fear it as I do? Are you not worried of the pain of war? Are you not worried that your mother will grieve if you do not return?"

Tater frowned. "I do not wish her grieve, but I must go to war. I cannot be man if I stay behind. War will not be pleasant, no, but death cannot hurt so much." Jack picked up his iron rod and hit Alexei in the arm with it. "OW! JACK!"

"I did not even harm you," said Jack. "What will happen when this is a sword?"

"It is something I must do," said Tater again. He dropped his iron rod. "Is more simple to not be afraid. They speak of Elysium as if always happy. How can always be happy? What if I am not good enough for Elysium and I am sentenced to lake of fire? What if I never see my brothers again? What if, worse, I see my brothers die and I live? How do I come home and look at my mother? No, I do not wish to go. And I do not wish to speak of it again."

Tater returned Jack to his room. Jack lay upon his bed until evening, ignoring his mother’s invitation for dinner. After nightfall, he left the bed and traveled outside to the iris patch where he slept the night before. There were still so many questions left to be asked, but he was afraid of the answers. He was afraid of the pain of falling out of the tree increased by ten. He was afraid of the underworld, of doing so much wrong that he was forever banned to Tartarus. He was afraid of the god of such a place, whose dark corner of his father’s mural displayed no room for hope.

There were nightshade bushes with berries behind their home that his mother faithfully watered and weeded, but they never ate the fruit. How could she create something with fruit that could not be eaten? What if the fruit was used to end the lives of others? How could he have named, colored, and cultivated something that brought destruction upon people afraid of death?

The clouds had returned, darker than before, and the rain fell violently upon the earth. How could he be in control of a force that could destroy a tree? If it could destroy a tree, it could destroy a human. How much of the lightning had already destroyed the world?

He could not stay in the field any longer and he did not wish to speak to anyone in the palace. The night was still young, despite the dark, and his mother was surely still dining with George and her family, who had limited time to live. He ran to the theatre instead and collapsed on the seat where his mother first told him of this awful truth. Why did it have to exist at all?

The storm raged overhead; the rain poured out of the sky in sheets and the thunder clapped loudly, echoing throughout the theatre. When Jack looked up, the lighting streaked the sky and then struck the earth, setting fire to the roof of one of the houses in the valley. He had caused it, which made it rain harder, and caused the lightning to strike more. How could he be the one in charge of a force so horrible?

A bolt struck the center of the stage and when Jack blinked, his father was there.

"Jack," Bob said. He approached Jack and placed his hands on Jack’s shoulders.

"Papa. Why did you give this power to me? Look what I have done." The roof of the house was still aflame despite the heaviness of the rain. "They will die and it will be because of me."

"I see your mother has finally explained death to you," said Bob. "It’s about time. The fire is small and the night is still young. They will leave the house before they are harmed. You have done nothing wrong. Dry your tears and clear the storm."

Jack shook his head.

"Why did you not tell me? Why does something so horrible exist?"

"Jack, without death there cannot be life. The mortals cannot appreciate the time they are given if time does not have an end. Why would they do their work? Why would they live and laugh and fall in love? Death is something that all mortals must face, and when their time comes, they will accept it. There is nothing to fear when it comes to death."

"But there may not be peace when death comes," said Jack. "The god of the underworld judges all, and if you have killed —" Jack looked at the burning roof again. "And if you killed you will be judged for it."

"You have done no wrong tonight, Jack," said Bob. "There is beauty in death, like there is beauty in life. It is not something you need to fear. Do you wish me to show you?"

Jack nodded.

"Dry your eyes first."

Jack did; the clouds remained but the rain no longer flowed.

Bob whispered, "Hades."

With a crack of thunder, louder than any Jack had heard that evening, a body appeared in the acoustic center of the theatre, facing the wrong direction. His hair was the color of sunlight, his frame slight and unobtrusive. He wore a gown of deepest red and a golden crown of laurel leaves on his head. He turned around with flair and a lilting voice that sang, "Yes siree Bob!"

The man looked young but Jack knew his age was beyond time. He paused and jumped at the sight of Jack. "Oh my goodness!" he said, one hand covering his mouth. He had the largest, brownest eyes Jack had ever seen and wore an expression of sheer embarrassment. "Bob, who is this? You could have warned me; that was not the most intimidating of introductions."

"This is my son, Jack," said Bob. Jack stood and approached the god. He was several inches shorter than Jack and the bright smile on his face radiated light in a way that could not be possible. How was this the god of the eternally damned?

"Oh, thank the gods," he said. "How could I possibly redeem myself if you had brought a mortal to me? I am Eric, god of the underworld, I am here to judge you immediately after flaunting myself most heinously. Off to Tartarus with you!"

Eric let out a laugh filled with joy, yet Jack could not connect the words and the action. Eric joked about sending a mortal to eternal pain and suffering. Jack wished nothing more than to be repulsed, but then Eric smiled and the clouds vanished just as quickly as Eric had appeared.

"It’s nice to meet you, Jack," said Eric. He held out his hand in greeting. Jack took it; it was warm. Jack did not realize he was cold from the rain. "You’re all wet."

"It was raining," said Jack.

"Well not anymore!" said Eric with a look to the sky. "It looks all clear to me."

"It does," said Bob, looking between the two of them with keen interest, "yet the thunder raged not moments before you arrived." Jack looked at his father, who patted Jack on the back of his soaking tunic. "Jack, this is Bitty, god of the underworld."

"I thought you said Eric," said Jack, looking back at Bitty. His skin was pink in the cheeks, no longer from embarrassment, as if the flush was natural to him.

"He is the bittiest of the gods, is he not?" Bob said with a laugh. Bitty shrugged his shoulders. "Bitty, I need your assistance. Jack is my son and I wish him to know as much of the world as there is. I need you to show him the underworld for me so that he may better understand his purpose here."

Bitty looked up at Jack, his smile replaced with a frown. Now that Jack had seen the smile, he wished never again to see the frown.

"Why would you want that?" asked Bitty.

"I need to know," said Jack.

"Show him the fields of Elysium," said Bob.

"And nothing more?" asked Bitty.

"Nothing more. He needs to see the good."

Bitty nodded. "That I will do. Jack, if you come with me, I will show you what lies beneath your feet." Bitty held out his hand for Jack to take. Jack stepped forward to do so, but before he could, Bob stopped him.

"Before you go," said Bob. "I must tell you the underworld is not my domain. No one with breath is permitted to enter, and those who enter are not permitted to leave. Bitty will do this as a favor to me, but while you are there, you must abide by his rules." Jack looked at Bitty; his hand remained outstretched and the smile had returned to his lips.

"I understand," said Jack.

"Most important of all, do not consume anything there. Everything that is there has died and if you swallow any of the fruit of the underworld, you will become death yourself. I will not be able to bring you home."

"I understand," he said again.

Jack turned to Bitty, who grabbed his wrist and pulled him toward the center of the stage. Bitty gestured to the ground; it opened at his feet and swirled downward in a staircase that led to a tunnel of red light. Jack looked back at his father one more time before he willingly followed Bitty below the surface.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YES FINALLY WE MEET BITTY!!
> 
> The city of Eleusis is very important in the story of Demeter and Persephone. There’s so much cool stuff that you can read about if you’re interested in looking for more. It did have a theatre that has been since destroyed. The one in this story is based off the Epidaurus theatre that you should look up because it’s super cool!
> 
> George and the Falcs are pretty self-explanatory, but if you didn’t notice, the palace is essentially the Dunkin Donuts Arena in Providence, where the Falcs would probably play if they were real.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has graphic depictions of hell, so if that is an issue for you, you’ll want to skip a good chunk of the end of this chapter. It’s very clear when that section starts. Make sure to read the last few paragraphs, though :)
> 
> Thanks to my betas [Luckie](archiveofourown.org/users/luckie_dee) and [Kayci](http://zimmerbittle.tumblr.com/)!

The red light in the tunnel came from torches affixed to the earth. They were not needed; Bitty radiated a light all his own. It reminded Jack of his chariot ride with Larissa over a year before, but Bitty was not the god of the sun, nor was he the god of light and warmth. He was the god of everything that was dead. It was frightening, to descend so many stairs without knowing where they led. He could only see red light and feel the increasing warmth. Jack resisted the urge to clear his throat, knowing it would show his trepidation, and instead willed his strongest voice to pull from deep inside his chest.

"Why is it so warm?"

Bitty let go of his wrist for the first time since they began their descent and let out a hearty laugh. The laugh echoed all the way down the spiral stairs, the sound joyful and fun.

"Because the rest of the world is so darn cold, Jack! I am so glad to be home; it was freezing up by you. You must have been chilled to the bone with your tunic soaked with rain."

Jack looked down at his tunic, which was already drying in the warmth of the tunnel. He had been rather cold before Bitty appeared.

They descended for what seemed like forever. At some point Bitty reached behind himself again for Jack’s hand, and Jack, without thinking, took it. They continued that way for several more minutes, chasing the ghosts of Bitty’s laughter, until they came upon a wooden door. Bitty reached out for the handle, but paused and looked back at Jack. Jack, two stairs above him, looked down at Bitty apprehensively.

"Are you ready?" Bitty asked.

"Yes," whispered Jack.

Bitty opened the door and pulled Jack through. Jack took a step forward into tall green grass. It was daytime. The sky was blue and cloudless. The light hit the Elysian Fields equally, but when Jack looked up, there was no sun. They stood on sloped land with rolling hills in every direction as far as Jack could see. When he turned to look behind him, the door had vanished. They were alone.

He recognized all of the flowers in the fields but the colors were wrong. Most of the flowers were red regardless if Jack had painted them that way on the surface. Others remained white. The color did not distract from their beauty. A forest lay to what Jack supposed was the north, but without the sun, it was impossible to tell direction. The leaves were the same rich green that he knew, and his favorite image of all was there in front of him; full, lush trees abutting a pale blue sky. He stared at the juxtaposition until tears came to his eyes. Not only did this look like home, but he felt as if he belonged here. He felt as if whatever duties waiting for him at the top of the staircase were no longer important. This was it. This is where he needed to be.

Jack looked at Bitty, who watched him anxiously.

"What do you think?" Bitty asked.

His voice was low. They were alone and right next to each other. Apart from a warm gentle breeze, the fields were silent. There was no need for volume.

Jack stepped forward and Bitty followed. After a few minutes, he approached unpainted flowers. "It’s beautiful here," said Jack. He reached out a finger to a white delphinium. "It reminds me so much of home." He touched the petal and blue spread like wildfire across the field in front of them. When Jack looked back at Bitty, Bitty was staring at the spread of color in front of him with his jaw set, his expression unreadable. Jack reached out to touch the delphinium again but Bitty quickly placed a hand on his arm.

"No," Bitty said. "Leave them. I like the blue."

They continued their saunter; there was no hurry or agenda while Jack looked his fill. Without warning the breeze picked up. He stopped and closed his eyes; the rustle came from behind him and he heard it before he felt it, but then there it was, gentle against his skin, pushing his now dry tunic against his body and whipping it out in front of him. When he opened his eyes again he could see blades of grass and dandelion seeds floating in the air before him. He caught one of the seeds on his finger and looked at it before looking at Bitty.

"Why is it so beautiful?" Jack asked.

"Because death can be beautiful, Jack," said Bitty. "This is not a horrible place. There is no punishment for a life well lived."

"Can we sit?" Jack asked.

"Wherever you wish."

Jack sat where he stood and Bitty followed. They were among several types of flowers; some of them were the delphiniums that Jack had turned blue, some were red and rightly so, some were incorrectly red. Many were unpainted still. Jack placed his hand underneath the head of a red one and looked at Bitty. "These are also supposed to be blue. They’re called bluebonnet."

"Then fix it for me," said Bitty.

Jack did and the color rippled through the field like wind.

"And this," said Jack. "Tulips. They come in all different colors. Red is one of them, but they bloom yellow and orange and lilac and purple."

"But shouldn’t the lilac be lilac?"

"The lilac is, yes, but other flowers can be too. The lilac isn’t a selfish flower."

"What else is wrong?" Bitty asked.

Jack spoke for what felt like forever, and after he had corrected those within reach he hopped up and continued on. Bitty followed him closely as he touched petal after petal, stating the name of each one. Just as suddenly as he began, he stopped.

"What?" Bitty asked.

"You know all of the names of these flowers, don’t you?" Jack asked.

"I do," replied Bitty.

"Why did you let me talk for so long about things you already know?"

"You do not seem the type of person who frequently speaks," said Bitty. "It was nice to see you so animated." Jack felt a flush of additional warmth enter his cheeks. Bitty looked at it with his large, dark eyes, and a similar redness bloomed in his face as well. "I might know the names of all of these flowers, but I do not know why you named them so. Why don’t you tell me about that?"

Jack knelt again and placed his hand under a morning glory. "This," he said, "is the morning glory. I would sleep in the meadow at home under the stars and when I awoke every morning, these were the first I would see. They’re the color of the sea when it rains. It’s my favorite color." Bitty knelt next to him on the grass and placed his hand underneath Jack’s, directing the flower to him. The delicate touch brought shivers to Jack’s body despite the comforting heat that Elysium had provided since they arrived.

Only the bloom in their hands changed to red. "This is my favorite color," said Bitty.

Jack chuckled. "I can tell."

"How?"

Jack continued to laugh and Bitty pouted, his lower lip pink and enticing. "Your robes," Jack said. Bitty looked down at his clothes and his cheeks began to match. "And the flowers before I began to fix them. And the torches along the staircase. I’m surprised you have not repainted the sky."

"It was once red," said Bitty. He lay on the grass on his back and looked upward. Jack lay next to him; his vision was filled with blue. When Bitty gestured to it, his pale hand disrupted the purity of the color, but Jack did not mind. Bitty’s fingers were long and slender despite his below average stature. "It did not look right. I changed it back immediately."

"Let me see," said Jack.

Bitty’s hands waved in the air and the sky turned red. The shade was less intense than the flowers or Bitty’s robes, but the expanse of it was overwhelming within seconds, as if Jack were falling into a sea of blood.

"No, I do not like it," Jack said. With another wave, the sky returned to blue. Bitty lowered his hands and Jack continued to look upward. The breeze had died down again and the fields were silent. "Why is it so quiet?" Jack asked.

"This is your Elysium," said Bitty, "but you did not wait at the gates of the underworld, nor did you stand before my throne and tell me the story of your life. My preparation was done while we descended the stairs together. I did what I could with what I had."

Jack looked to his side; Bitty had turned his head and looked back. His golden hair rested gently against his forehead, the tips of his bangs falling over his eyebrows and just slightly into his eyes. Without hesitation, Jack brushed them into place. When he did so, Bitty exhaled sweetly.

"Do you wish me to tell you the story of my life?" Jack asked.

"Very much," replied Bitty.

Jack did and left nothing out, and he watched Bitty’s face as he spoke. Bitty smiled pleasantly upon hearing of Jack’s parents and whatever he could remember of his youngest years. The smile grew when Jack spoke of the fruit he named first, of his favorite maple tree, but it faded when Jack spoke of his apprehension to perform his first task in the white blanket. Jack wished for the magic again that arose in Bitty’s eyes, so he continued on to his flower crowns, his father’s horse Zephyros, and his meetings with Larissa and Shitty, which was when Bitty first interrupted.

"I know them," said Bitty. "Larissa less so, but Shitty has delivered messages to me here."

"They do not speak fondly of this place."

"They have not seen this place," said Bitty. "Shitty has only seen the gates and the palace. He has seen the mortals waiting to be judged. He has seen the throne of the god of the underworld. He knows nothing of Elysium."

"Will he ever?" asked Jack.

"Perhaps," said Bitty. "I have interrupted you. Continue."

Jack spoke of the people he met on his trip with Shitty, leaving nothing hidden. He mentioned the King of Thessaly and Bitty’s eyes danced with wonder. Bitty interrupted again when Jack moved on to Atlantis.

"The King of Thessaly," said Bitty. "You desired him?"

"I did," said Jack. "I have not seen him since."

"Did you ever think of him again?" Bitty asked.

"Just once. I was alone in the meadow. It was the night before my birthday." Bitty opened his mouth again, as if to ask another question, but did not and Jack continued. He finished his life with his trip to Eleusis and his lesson with his mother. He could see the gloss in Bitty’s eyes when Jack spoke of the rainstorm that led to Bitty’s arrival. Just as he finished, a buzzing filled his ears. He tore his eyes away from the god lying next to him and looked up; a bee had landed on a purple hyssop behind Jack’s head. Jack turned to it and reached out his hand; the bee climbed onto his finger instead.

"You made me bees," said Jack.

"You said you remembered the way that they buzzed around you when you sat in the fields. They should be here too."

Jack looked at Bitty again; the bee flew back to the flower.

"Thank you," said Jack.

"Zephyros is the god of the west wind. I’m sad that I cannot bring him here, for he will never die."

"That is okay. He is a good horse, but he is not my horse."

Bitty reached out his hand tentatively, then after his hesitation, placed it upon Jack’s arm. "If there was a way, Jack, I would do it for you."

"I have no doubt that you would," said Jack. He turned on his side and placed his hand atop Bitty’s. "You brought me bees. Why is it that no people are here?"

"Because no one you know has died. They would have been waiting for you if they were here," said Bitty. "Those who come to Elysium are always reunited with the ones they love."

"What about you?" Jack asked. "Where are the ones that you love?"

The glimmer left Bitty’s eye and Jack squeezed his hand. "There is no one here for me," whispered Bitty. Jack could not think of words to speak to soothe him; it was the worst part of paradise, to see Bitty so unhappy. Jack placed his hand on the side of Bitty’s face; Bitty smiled despite the sadness in his eyes.

"I will make this the greatest field of Elysium there can be,” Bitty said. “You have lived a beautiful life, Jack, and it has given me much to think on. I can see what you have seen, and I will bring your home here."

"Everything I said seems so long ago. All that there is left to do feels like it does not matter. Why am I so at peace here with you?"

"This is what it is like to be finished, Jack," said Bitty. He broke the peace and sat upright. "It is the reason the living are not permitted. Your life is not complete."

Jack sat upright as well. He wished to continue to touch Bitty, to rest his chin upon Bitty’s shoulder, to place his arms around Bitty’s waist. The desire for touch had never been so strong. He didn’t know what to do, though, or where to start, so he sat there, yearning, and wondered if yearn was another word for hell.

"Bitty," said Jack. Bitty looked over his shoulder. "I am happy here. I feel as if I am at home."

"I am pleased."

"This is not the whole of the underworld, though, is it?"

"No," said Bitty. He did not continue.

"Show me," said Jack.

"No," replied Bitty.

"Why not?"

"Your father asked me to show you the underworld so that you would understand that not everything you have heard is true. This is where time ends. This is where everything goes eventually. The flowers you plucked to make your crown? The day you painted them the first time? The stems that died that day came here and planted their roots in my fields. I colored them red because this is where they belong now. They are still beautiful in their death. There is so much beauty here, Jack."

"But not at all of it is beautiful. My mother told me of balance. We must see what is hideous first for us to know what beauty truly is. Show me the rest of it."

"If you insist," said Bitty, "I will show you the Asphodel Meadows and the Fields of Punishment. I cannot show you true Tartarus. No one is permitted in such a place; I only travel there to ensure the Titans have not left. I refuse to subject you to that."

"But you will show me the Fields of Punishment?"

Bitty nodded and then stood. "Do not be afraid. They are not your home."

They walked in a direction that Bitty understood but Jack did not. It felt like west but Jack could not be sure. They walked together for what could have been hours. The sunlight never changed. Eventually they came to a gated wooden bridge that spanned a deep chasm. Jack looked behind him and then across the bridge to the opposing fields. They looked identical. Bitty opened the silver gate and allowed Jack to enter first.

When the gate closed, the difference was instantaneous. What had been the beautiful rolling hills of Elysium switched to the flat meadows of Asphodel. The sky, while still light, was pale gray. The meadows contained no trees but unpainted flowers bloomed amongst the muted green grass. The colors were not as vibrant, not as exciting.

They crossed the bridge in silence and when Jack stepped upon the meadow for the first time, the sense of completeness he felt in Elysium had not changed, but something was missing. He could not pinpoint it. He approached the first flower he could see; it was an asphodel, fittingly, and unpainted. He realized with a shock that it was not painted because his work on Earth was not complete. The asphodels at home lay in a far field where Jack had yet to travel.

Bitty stepped next to him, his arms crossed, his expression unreadable.

"The Asphodel Meadows are the final resting place for the mortals who have done nothing wrong, but also have lived an uneventful life. They were not heroes of war, nor famous playwrights and lovers of song. Their names are not written in history. They did not strive for greatness. They just lived, and then they died, so they come here."

There was no fondness in Bitty’s voice when he spoke of the inhabitants of the meadows. Jack searched the dull land for signs of them. Again they were alone. Jack knelt and touched the petal of an asphodel; a red stripe climbed down the center of each, culminating together in an orange bulb at the center. Each of the five stems outward from the bulb changed into a gradient of pink. The subtle color began to spread.

"Why do you color them?" Bitty asked.

"You say these people have done nothing wrong. They still fear death like all the rest. If they are not to be punished, if the only thing keeping them here is their lack of greatness, they still deserve to be greeted with beauty like I was."

"You were greeted with Elysium. This is not Elysium."

"I do not mean the fields."

The smile upon Bitty’s face was contagious; Jack smiled in return and then moved on to the next flower. Bitty waited patiently for him as he took care with each one. The colors did not always agree with him here; on the surface color came naturally. He would place a finger and knew what he wished for, but here, he was more unsure. Not all asphodels were white with pink stripes. Some were yellow or purple, but the shade of yellow was difficult to see. Jack tried again and again to perfect it, prompting another comment from Bitty.

"Each yellow you have made has been beautiful," said Bitty.

"But it is not right," said Jack.

"Does it need to be right?"

"Yes," said Jack. "Yes. This place should be perfect."

"Why?"

"Because this is the place I would go if I were mortal," said Jack.

Bitty placed his hand on Jack’s shoulder. Jack stopped and looked back at him. Bitty’s eyes were gentle, his hand warm and reassuring. Jack had forgotten Bitty’s beauty in his work and it caused Jack’s heart to pound in his chest. He hoped that Bitty could not hear it.

"You are worth nothing less than Elysium."

"That is because I am a god," said Jack.

"That is because I have heard your life and it is good." Bitty knelt next to him. "Let me help. Is it yellow like this?" Bitty placed his finger atop Jack’s and the color deepened, richer and darker than the sun. Jack sat back onto his ankles.

"Yes," said Jack. "Like that."

Bitty’s face was so close to his. Jack could count the hairs on Bitty’s head and see the pupils of his brown eyes. The yearning was worse here than in Elysium, unbearable to take, so Jack placed his arm around Bitty’s waist. Bitty rested his head on Jack’s chest and surveyed the meadows around them. Jack lowered his nose to smell Bitty’s hair; it was more pleasant and fragrant than any of the flowers in the underworld.

"What else needs color?" Bitty asked.

They worked through the fields together, painting everything that was left. Sometimes it took several tries to perfect a shade, and sometimes Bitty intervened, but by the time Jack noticed the black gate, there was no flawed flower.

"Is that it?" Jack asked, looking at the gate.

Bitty nodded. "Are you sure you wish to see it?"

"I am sure."

They approached and the gate grew in size. The fences on either side were taller than houses, spreading out as far as Jack could see. The gate itself was taller than the tallest mountain; now that they were closer, Jack could not see the top. It wasn’t until they reached the entrance that Jack noticed the stable. Bitty whistled and from within four pure black horses drew a chariot so dark it seemed to smother the light that Bitty naturally emitted.

Bitty climbed inside the chariot and held out his hand for Jack. Jack took it and did not let go.

"We will move fast," said Bitty. "Stay close to me."

The gates opened, revealing a stone bridge that led to charred fields. The sky was dark and starless. It was not until they had crossed the bridge that Jack’s eyes adjusted to the absence of light. He looked behind him; the meadows of Asphodel were gone. He looked forward again and exhaled shakily. Bitty let go of his hand and placed his arm around Jack’s waist instead, holding him tightly. Jack gripped the edges of the black chariot.

He could thankfully see no one still, but all the pleasantry of Elysium had vanished. Jack felt hopeless, restless, and far too warm. He could feel the sweat begin to bead at his temples. He looked at Bitty, whose face had turned stoic. It held no flush and Bitty did not perspire. Bitty only looked ahead. They approached a river, and near its banks Jack saw people for the first time.

"I must caution you," said Bitty, his voice unlike his own. It was harsh, deep, and held no hint of humor or song. "You can observe the people we pass in the Fields of Punishment, but do not look too closely. Do not look directly at anyone. You will know their suffering if you do."

They crossed over a river. Bitty looked down it so Jack’s gaze followed; now that he was accustomed to the darkness, he could see source of light far in the distance. The light did not come from the sky but instead level with the ground.

"This is Acheron," said Bitty, "the river of pain."

Most of the people flooded its banks. Jack did not look at any individual but could see them moving. Some writhed upon the shore, some ran, some hobbled. Many of them were screaming. The screaming filled the scorched air. Jack looked forward again. The movements from the people slowed as the river disappeared behind them. Bitty was silent until they approached the second river, where the population grew again.

"This is Lethe, the river of oblivion," he said. "This is the kindest of the five rivers."

The people here moved in no particular direction. Some of them did not move at all. They wandered without rest and without aim.

Bitty was silent again until they approached the third river. He did not need to explain it, but still he did. "Phlegethon, the river of fire." The river itself was not made of fire, but fire consumed all of the beings near it. They flailed and ran and rolled in the water in an attempt to extinguish themselves, but the fire raged without end.

They continued on and approached the fourth river. Jack could hear the people before he could see them. Unlike the screams upon the banks of Acheron, the sounds from the mortals filled Jack with utter sadness. Their moans and howls filled the night sky from a distance where Jack could not yet see the water.

"Cocytus, the river of wailing," said Bitty.

The mourning grew louder as they approached. No one moved. All lay upon the ground with the dissent directed at the sky. Once they reached the bridge Jack needed to place his hands over his ears to block the volume of the sound. Bitty snapped his reins and they passed over Cocytus more quickly than the others.

As they approached the final river, Bitty changed direction. The horses galloped along its bank. Jack did not dare to look at any of the people here now that they were in such close proximity. Instead he looked forward and realized they were ascending the slight slope of a hill.

"Which river is this?" Jack asked.

"This is the river Styx," said Bitty.

As the horses climbed the hill, the temperature rose from uncomfortable to unbearably hot. Jack was sweating profusely now and frequently wiped his brow to prevent it from trickling into his eyes. He looked at Bitty again; Bitty had not even flushed. Bitty noticed him looking and glanced over, and then realized how much Jack was perspiring.

"We will only go a little further," he said.

Bitty slowed the horses when they reached the top of the hill. On the other side, five hills sloped downward again where the five rivers converged in a lake of fire. The flames burned brightly here, brighter than anything else in the charred fields. Jack blinked several times and placed his hand over his eyes to shield himself from its intensity, but as they stood there, his eyes eventually adjusted.

"The worst are here," said Bitty and he gestured to the lake. "I will not speak of their deeds, but I can assure you, their actions warrant the location." Bitty looked furious just to be in its presence. "I told you I would not take you to Tartarus. The entrance is at the bottom of the lake."

"I do not wish to go," said Jack.

"Have you seen enough?" Bitty asked.

"Yes. Take me back."

Bitty turned the horses and they trotted down the hill. The heat of the lake began to subside and Jack closed his eyes in an attempt to block out the light that had filled them. When he opened them again he was looking directly upon the bank of the river Styx, at a man upon his hands and knees. Like the others, he wore nothing at all. His hair was blond but lighter than Bitty’s, and his face was blue. He clawed at his throat with one hand. His nails scratched as his skin over and over, to the point where they had drawn blood.

Jack could not look away. His own throat tightened at the sight of the silent man. They approached and no relief came. They rode alongside him and no relief came. They passed him and the man threw back his head as if to wail, but no sound could escape his throat. The silent man locked eyes with Jack and reached out his hand for help. He attempted to call out but could not. He was on his knees now, crawling forward toward the chariot, both of his hands outstretched, hope in his eyes, until the moment that Bitty snapped the reins and the horses bolted away.

Jack looked forward; they were in Elysium again, but the silent man was all Jack could see. Jack’s breath came out in shudders. He collapsed onto the ground and Bitty went down with him, holding him from behind, Jack sitting between his legs. There was no relief in it; the man was still choking and had turned to Jack for help, but Jack had run away instead.

"It’s okay," Bitty whispered to him, stroking Jack’s hair and holding him securely around the waist. "It’s okay, we’re back now. We will never return. You are in Elysium, Jack."

Jack shook his head and tears poured out of his eyes, but the sunlight and warmth did not cease. Bitty held him tightly and touched his face. "It’s okay, Jack. Please breathe for me. You are safe."

"He —" Jack began, but it was difficult to speak. "The man. He never stopped choking."

"It was not you. You are here." Jack nodded; he was in Elysium and Bitty held him tight. It didn’t matter, for the silent man was still on the bank of the Styx and would be, on his knees, choking for all time. Jack looked behind him at Bitty’s gentle face. Bitty stopped touching him and instead placed both of his arms around Jack’s waist now, holding Jack up against him.

"You sent them there?" Jack asked.

"Yes," said Bitty.

"And you gave them that punishment to carry for all eternity?"

"Yes," said Bitty.

"There was a man in the river Styx. He was on the bank. He was choking." Fresh tears fell out of Jack’s eyes and Bitty wiped them away.

"The river Styx is the river of hatred," Bitty explained. "That man’s rage never ended. He went to war with his neighbors because they were not like him. After he killed them all, he murdered his family, his father and mother, his brothers and sisters, his wife and child. He murdered himself. His hatred consumed him in his life; now it chokes him in his death."

"You remember him?"

"I remember all of them," said Bitty. "That is what I do. It does not bring me pleasure to punish a man like that. I wish such a man never existed, but he did. He will never see the fields of Elysium. He will never see the lush trees and the green grass, nor the blossoms you turned blue. He squandered his life of his own will and I sentenced him accordingly. But his family — his wife and child are here. They laugh and play and love and are happy. I was honored to give them this peace when their lives ended so violently. You could meet them, if you wish. The child would love to see you change the colors of the flowers."

Jack touched a bloom in front of him and just that one changed to yellow, the color of Bitty’s hair. He plucked it from the soil and placed it behind Bitty’s ear; he did not feel the life leave it like he did on Earth. It remained as it was. Bitty looked back at him but the concern had not left his face. Jack cupped his cheek and Bitty leaned into it.

"You have seen so much."

"I have seen everything, Jack," said Bitty. "I would say that there is nothing left that surprises me, but today I have been proven wrong."

"How so?"

"I did not know that I would feel like this when I look at you," said Bitty, his words soft, almost inaudible in the breeze. "You are welcome to leave at any time, Jack. I have shown you what you need to see. While nothing in Hades can die, know that I will die, just a little, to see you go."

"I do not wish to leave," said Jack.

"Even with all that you saw?"

"Yes. There is light and dark. There is pain and peace. There is joy and sorrow. And Bitty." Jack let his fingers caress the flushed skin on Bitty’s face. "I would die to go as well."

"Well," said Bitty, a smile upon his lips for the first time since they returned to Elysium. "It appears either way I would have you."

Jack leaned forward and Bitty lifted his chin to meet him. Their lips connected in a soft, quiet kiss. All of the pain and hopelessness that Jack had seen in the Fields of Punishment was gone; Bitty had instead filled him with happiness, the kind that consumed him whole.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to my betas [Luckie](archiveofourown.org/users/luckie_dee) and [Kayci](http://zimmerbittle.tumblr.com/)!

"I wish you to see my home," said Bitty.

They walked hand in hand through the fields and approached the forest that Jack had seen when they first arrived. They had not explored it yet, but Jack was confident that when he first looked upon it, it did not have this many apple or maple trees. Jack wished to see how Bitty had changed it for him, but at that moment, he wished nothing more than to see Bitty’s home instead.

"Is it as beautiful as you?" Jack asked and Bitty blushed.

"I like it," said Bitty.

"Then I will like it too."

Bitty led Jack into the forest with purpose. Apart from their time in the Fields of Punishment, their journey had never been hurried. This journey through the forest, however, was fast. None of the trees were admired or appreciated, and instead they simply crunched through fallen leaves with their bare feet and climbed a steep hill until the forest was gone and the meadows returned.

Jack could see it as soon as they passed the trees. He stopped Bitty, just for a moment, to look at it. Bitty’s home sat at the top of the hill, a large rectangular building made of gray stone. Pillars lined every side of it, holding up a roof with intricate designs that Jack could not see from this distance. From the other side of the hill, Jack could hear the sound of waves. When Jack had looked his fill, Bitty took his hand again and continued to lead him upward.

As they approached, Jack could make out carvings lining the roof of the building upon a red background. Above the line of red, at the apex of the roof, were larger statues. The smaller carvings depicted people in various states; eating, singing, dancing, laughing, loving, all of the happiest actions and emotions that Jack could imagine. The larger had a man, not unlike Bitty, surrounded by horses, pigs, goats, and cows. In his arms he carried a dog with three heads. Beneath the roof stood eight stone pillars. When they were near enough to see, Jack counted six stone steps leading to two doors.

Bitty hopped up the steps first and passed through the center pillars. He opened the door and gestured for Jack to enter before him. Jack did, and the inside of the home was not what he expected. The outside was made of stone but the inside was soft; not a stone in sight. He stepped foot upon white grass that was not grass, but instead lined all flooring. It was soft and cushioned beneath his feet. Bitty closed the door behind him and the sound of it caused a ruckus of barking from deep within the house.

"Oh, I apologize, Jack," said Bitty when Jack jumped in alarm. "That’s Cerberus. He gets very excited when I am near."

From down the hall came the large dog that Jack had seen in the carving on the roof. It ran to Bitty without giving any attention to Jack, which was fortunate, because it was a terrifying sight. The dog was pure black and the height of Bitty’s shoulders. Its coat was shiny in Bitty’s light but the hair was short. Its tail wagged excitedly and Jack realized with a start that the tail was a serpent whose head also was looking at Bitty. Each of the dog’s heads vied for Bitty’s attention, all three panting heavily with their tongues out of their mouths.

"Hello!" said Bitty brightly. "Hello, hello! Yes, you look so beautiful today, Cerberus!" Bitty kissed each of the heads and then began to pet the dog’s back, all the way down to the tip of the tail and the serpent’s head, which Bitty tickled under the chin. "Cerberus, I want you to meet Jack. Be very nice to him."

Cerberus turned to Jack, who was frightened, but Cerberus approached cautiously. The far right head licked Jack’s hand, causing Jack to smile. The heads seemed to take that as an invitation to lick the rest of him and Bitty had to call them off before he was fully bathed. "That’s enough," said Bitty. "Go lay down."

The dog ran back to the same hallway from whence he came. Jack wiped his hands on his tunic. Bitty laughed; it was the most joyous sound.

"I’m sorry," Bitty said. "He’s meant to guard the gate and prevent the dead from leaving, but if I’m home, so is he. He is intimidating, which I suppose is a good thing, but when he’s here he’s just adorable."

"He is a little intimidating," said Jack.

"Before long you will love him like I do," said Bitty. "Come, you need to see the rest."

The front room of the house had two red chaises of a style that Jack had never seen; each had cushions lining the bottom and back with arm rests on either side. They faced a table where Bitty kept several tomes in a basket, and beyond it, a hearth. Down the hall was a room devoted just to bathing, which Jack had not seen inside before. The basin was large enough to fit the both of them. This was the only room without the cushioned floor; instead the tiles had been painted black and white.

Jack stopped in front of the kitchen; there were several counters and tables for food preparation, a large hearth for a fire and above it a stone opening meant to be heated from below. Jack noticed what looked like a pie sitting on the table in the center of the room. It was covered in small red pomegranate seeds.

"You have a fruit pie here," said Jack.

"Yes. I enjoy making fruit pies," said Bitty. "Don’t delay. You cannot eat here and I do not wish to tempt you."

Jack looked at the pomegranate pie with longing; it was true that he had not eaten since their arrival, but he until that moment had not felt hungry. Bitty pulled him along, all the way down the hall, until Bitty opened a door and revealed a large bedroom. The furniture in the room had been carved from mahogany, a desk and chair for writing letters, a wardrobe for storing clothes, and a frame for the largest bed that Jack had ever seen. The cushion atop of it was smooth and draped in red sheets topped with a thick red blanket.

Bitty sat on the edge of the bed and Jack realized that despite the splendor of Bitty’s house, Bitty was still the most beautiful thing in it.

"Jack," Bitty whispered.

Jack swallowed and the heat went straight below the belt that tied around his waist. Bitty’s gaze had changed. Still happy and pleasant, it held an intensity that Jack had only ever seen once before, in the throne room of the King of Thessaly. This was so much more than the brief exchange that Kent and Jack had shared; Jack knew what the gaze meant, knew its consequences, and was both ready and willing to follow through.

He stepped forward in front of Bitty, who placed both of his hands on Jack’s bare thighs, just above the back of his knees. While Bitty looked into Jack’s eyes, his hands traveled up and under Jack’s tunic until he grasped Jack’s posterior in both of his hands. Jack took in a deep breath; the feeling was already exhilarating.

"Jack," Bitty said again. "I wish to be with you."

"And I with you," replied Jack.

Bitty removed his hands from under Jack’s tunic and instead brought them to the belt at his waist. He untied the zoster and dropped it to the floor. Jack lifted his arms above his head. Bitty took the tunic by the hem and stood up with it, removing it completely and tossing it to the floor as well. Jack stood completely naked in front of Bitty, hard and aching, yet felt no shame when Bitty looked him over.

Jack reached forward and untied Bitty’s cloak. It, then his belt, then his tunic, met Jack’s clothes upon the floor. Bitty’s body was as small as Jack expected underneath the heavy robes, but compact, muscular, full of angles and length that contradicted his stature. He was clearly strong despite being slender, and Jack loved every inch of the pale skin in front of him. Jack looked lower, below the taut muscles of Bitty’s stomach, to the pink and full erection between Bitty’s legs. Bitty was not as large as Jack, but it fit his height perfectly.

"You are even more beautiful than I imagined," whispered Jack.

"Did you imagine?" Bitty asked. 

Jack looked into his eyes. "All day." 

Bitty suddenly pulled Jack by the shoulders down to him, locking their lips together. Jack responded hungrily, trapping Bitty’s lips between his until Bitty forced their mouths open and touched Jack’s tongue. Jack placed both hands around Bitty’s waist and lifted him onto the bed, where he lay his body atop Bitty’s and kissed him again and again.

Several minutes later Bitty rolled them over so Jack lay upon his back on the soft, warm blankets. It was the most comfortable bed Jack had ever laid upon, more comfortable than his favorite meadow on a warm, starry night. His favorite meadow did not compare because his favorite meadow lacked Bitty, who released Jack’s mouth and began to kiss across his face, down his jaw, and into his neck. Jack moaned when Bitty kissed his neck the first time; the feeling tickled but the pleasure outweighed his body’s typical response. Jack, who still had his hands on Bitty’s back, allowed one to travel downward and take hold of Bitty’s backside. It was small but a perfect fit for Jack’s hand.

Bitty moaned in response to Jack’s hand, just briefly, before his kisses traveled further down onto Jack’s chest. He did not linger here, nor on Jack’s stomach, and before Jack realized what was about to happen, Bitty had taken Jack’s aching cock in one hand and placed it in his mouth.

"Oh gods," moaned Jack and he grasped the pillow under his head with both hands in an attempt to control his emotion. He had touched himself just two nights ago, imagining the feel of a mouth around his cock, but this was more pleasurable and more erotic than his wildest thoughts. He took in a steady breath; he did not wish to finish too soon. He wanted this moment to last as long as possible.

When Jack felt more in control of himself he opened his eyes and looked down; Bitty bobbed up and down the length of him, using his hand as an extension of his lips, his cheeks hollow with suction. Bitty must have felt Jack’s stare for he looked up and into Jack’s eyes as he pulled off, and the sight of Jack’s cock sliding out of Bitty’s beautiful pink lips was entirely too much.

"Fuck," Jack breathed. Bitty let go, his hand still working Jack up and down. Bitty smiled at him.

"I thought you were a sweet, good man," said Bitty, his eyes twinkling with humor. "Where did you learn that word?"

"Shitty," Jack said. Bitty laughed before he opened his mouth and dragged his tongue along the length of Jack’s cock. Jack closed his eyes again and his head fell against the pillow, unable to hold it up any longer while Bitty turned his bones to ooze. Bitty continued to lick him — up his shaft, around the head, over the tip, and then down again. When Bitty’s mouth opened and kissed the sensitive skin of his testicles Jack’s breath hitched in his throat and his entire body tensed.

Bitty stopped. "Are you close?" he asked, his voice a husky whisper.

"Yes," Jack replied.

Bitty let go of him and Jack propped himself up on his elbows to look down at Bitty. Bitty was crawling on his hands and knees back up to Jack’s mouth, which he kissed. "Why did you stop?" Jack asked in between Bitty’s affections.

"I don’t want you to finish yet," said Bitty. "I want you inside of me."

Jack slid one hand down the center of Bitty’s back and then in between his legs. Bitty whimpered as Jack’s middle finger gently touched the rim of his hole. "You want me here?" Jack asked breathily. Bitty nodded and Jack kissed him again. Jack prodded him gently but did not know what he was doing. Bitty seemed to sense this and sat up.

"Wait, I have —" Jack and Bitty looked at the table to the side of the bed. A small decanter of olive oil sat there; it was not there previously. Bitty picked it up and Jack held out his hand. Bitty poured a small amount into Jack’s palm and, after replacing the decanter on the table, spread the oil over Jack’s fingers. He then folded all but one down. "Just one to start. Be careful."

Jack returned his hand between Bitty’s legs and gently slid a finger inside. The tightness and heat were unlike anything Jack had ever felt, which made him ache to place more than just his finger there. He was patient, though, sliding slickly in and out of Bitty until it felt easy enough to attempt a second. Jack watched Bitty’s face; his expression was one of unbridled desire. As Jack worked him open, Bitty held tightly to his own erection, occasionally pumping himself in rhythm with Jack.

It took a few minutes, but then Bitty whispered, "Gods, Jack, I need you inside of me now."

Jack felt as if he could wait no longer; more oil was poured, slicking Jack’s cock, and then Bitty held onto its base before he lowered himself slowly on it. Jack closed his eyes and bit his lip to keep from cursing again; Bitty was so very warm and tight. He waited until Bitty slid all the way down to his base before he opened his eyes; Bitty looked right back at him.

"Jack," said Bitty, his eyes wet. "Jack…"

Jack had no words. He pressed his forehead against Bitty’s and closed his eyes again. Bitty placed both hands on the sides of Jack’s face and kissed him once, just briefly, before he pulled up and sat back down. Jack held tightly to Bitty’s hips to steady him as Bitty continued to ride him, each movement its own small explosion of feeling, leading Jack closer and closer to completion.

"Bitty," Jack whispered just a few minutes later. "Bitty, I’m going to come." Bitty just nodded and kept moving until Jack grabbed tightly to his hips, thrust upward, and released inside of him. Bitty opened his eyes and let out a long breath. Jack collapsed back onto the bed and let out his own sigh, a smile etching its way onto his face. Bitty carefully sat up and lay next to him. Jack turned to hold him and realized that Bitty was still hard.

"You haven’t come yet," said Jack. Bitty shook his head. "Lay back. Let me finish you."

Bitty obliged. Jack, still coming down from his orgasm, felt wobbly and uncoordinated, but maneuvered himself in between Bitty’s legs and copied what Bitty had started on him. He held the base of Bitty’s cock in his hand and placed his mouth around it, starting slow and working Bitty up and down. He was able to take more of Bitty in his mouth than Bitty could of him, so his hand was not as necessary. He simply held Bitty in place as he allowed the suction to build until his jaw ached, then let go and began to kiss and lick wherever he could.

The sounds Bitty made were obscene, but each one was an encouragement when Jack felt unsure of what he was doing. Bitty moaned and writhed, his hands on Jack’s head, guiding him where he wanted and adjusting the tempo as necessary. It was only a few minutes before Bitty moaned, "Let go, I’m going to come."

Jack did, using his hand where his mouth had been. He looked up at Bitty; he had not wanted to let go, instead wanted Bitty to spill his seed in Jack’s mouth. "Would that count as eating the fruit of the underworld?" Jack asked and Bitty only cracked a smile before he let out a long, low moan and spurted multiple times onto Jack’s hand. Jack crawled up to the head of the bed and lay upon the same pillow that Bitty occupied.

"Jack," whispered Bitty. "That was beautiful."

"It was," replied Jack. He was spent, exhausted and satiated, but part of him wanted it to never stop. "We should do it again."

Bitty laughed heartily. He turned and captured Jack’s mouth with his own, kissing him long and deep, before he let go and looked into Jack’s eyes. "Yes," Bitty said, “but first we need to rest."

"Yes."

Bitty lay on his back again; Jack rested his head on Bitty’s chest instead of the pillow, which was more comfortable. Bitty’s fingers gently trailed over his back. Jack closed his eyes, enjoying the feeling, and at some point drifted to sleep.

He awoke what felt like just a few minutes later. It was still light out. He lifted his head to see that Bitty was also awake, one of his hands in a bowl of pomegranate seeds. Bitty noticed and pushed the bowl to the opposite side of the table.

"Sorry," he said. "I didn’t know you were awake."

"Where did you get pomegranate seeds?" Jack asked.

"They were here. Everything is here. I just bring it to me when I need it." They both sat up and Jack reached over Bitty to take the bowl from the table. "What are you doing?" Jack scooped a few of the seeds into his hand.

"Jack," Bitty said and his voice sounded more severe than Jack had ever heard it. Jack looked at Bitty. "If you eat any of those, you can never return to the surface. You will need to stay here in Elysium forever." 

Jack looked around. The sky outside the window was still blue; the bedroom was comfortable and warm; Bitty radiated light and beauty. "I wish to stay here," said Jack. "There is no reason to return to the surface."

"There are reasons," said Bitty. "You still have work to do. None of the flowers in the Asphodel Meadows had been painted."

"But I painted them here today. They will be that way for whoever goes there now. When they leave the earth and come to the meadows they will see beauty that they have never seen before."

"Your mother. Your father."

"My mother can tend to the earth without me. I have seen my father but a few times in my life." Jack frowned. "Do you not wish me to stay?"

Bitty’s expression softened and he gently touched Jack’s face.

"More than anything," Bitty whispered.

"Then I will stay. I may have not met many people in my life, but I am convinced that there is no one else out there like you."

"And I have met nearly all, and I can tell you, there is none like you, Jack."

It was settled. Jack tipped the seeds into his mouth. Tears spilled out of Bitty’s eyes and he pulled Jack close. "Jack," he whispered. "Stay with me always."

"Always," Jack replied.

They stayed there in the bed, Bitty holding Jack tightly. Bitty’s natural glow seemed to brighten as they embraced. The light grew brighter and brighter until Jack realized it couldn’t be coming from Bitty at all. He let go and turned around to see it spilling into the window from outside. The light in Elysium had never come from the outside in such a way. Jack got off the bed and stood at the window in time to see Larissa approach in her chariot of the sun.

"Larissa!" Jack said in surprise. Behind him, Bitty covered himself with his sheets.

"Jack, there you are!" said Larissa. She flew her chariot closer to the window and paused eye level with Jack.

"What do you mean?" Jack asked. "My father knows I am here."

"But your mother doesn’t," said Larissa. "She’s sent me everywhere to look for you. It’s time for you to come back."

Jack shook his head. "I can’t," said Jack.

"I’ll tell her you’re here," said Larissa and she lifted her reins to take off, but Jack reached out his hand through the window.

"No!" Jack said. "Do not tell her I am here!"

"What are you talking about, Jack?" Larissa looked at him; the window was waist height, so his nudity was not immediately apparent, but when she looked behind him at Bitty, hiding underneath his blankets, she nodded. "I see."

"I do not wish to return to the surface," said Jack.

"It’s not up to me," said Larissa. "Your mother is worried about you. She sent me to find you and here you are. I need to go back to her."

"Larissa," Jack pleaded. "Please do not. Forget you have seen me."

"I have to go." Larissa rode away and the light left with her. Jack felt suddenly cold. He turned and looked at Bitty, who was close to tears. As Jack looked at him, Bitty’s face turned resolute and he gestured for Jack to return to the bed. Jack did and Bitty held him protectively.

"You ate. You cannot leave. If it is truly your wish to stay with me, I will fight for you. People fear the God of the Underworld, that he is stubborn and not easily persuaded. I will show them the truth of their rumors."

"I wish to stay," said Jack.

"So stay you will." Bitty kissed him. "So stay you will."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The outside of Bitty’s house is modeled after the Parthenon, specifically [the replica in Nashville](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Parthenon_\(Nashville\)#/media/File:Nashville_parthenon_01.jpg). 
> 
> One more to go! Thank you for reading!


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last chapter! Thank you so much for reading but most thanks to my betas [Luckie](archiveofourown.org/users/luckie_dee) and [Kayci](http://zimmerbittle.tumblr.com/).

Bitty redressed in his red tunic and cloak and placed his crown of gold plated laurel on his head. Jack reached for his usual brown tunic that had been discarded on the floor, but before he could put it on, Bitty stopped him.

"No," said Bitty. He opened his wardrobe; all of the clothing inside was red. He removed a tunic and another cloak and handed it to Jack. "Wear this instead." Jack dressed in it and after he did, Bitty held a second crown in his hand. He held it out to Jack.

"Your crown?" Jack asked.

"You are tied to the underworld forever, but I will not have you thinking you are equal with the mortals who rest in the fields of Elysium or the souls who wander the Asphodel Meadows. You, Jack, are so much more. You will stay in the underworld with me and you will reign at my side." Bitty gestured to the floor in front of him. Jack knelt. Bitty gently placed the crown upon his head, where it rested behind Jack’s ears. "You are no longer the god of the spring. You are god of the underworld. You are a king." Jack looked up at Bitty but instead of rising, he placed both of his arms around Bitty’s waist and rested his head on Bitty’s stomach. Bitty placed a hand on Jack’s head and they breathed there for just a moment before they left the house together to face what was coming for them, Cerberus following his masters close behind.

The palace of the god of the underworld lay outside Elysium, the Asphodel Meadows, the Fields of Punishment, and Tartarus. A courtyard lay between the three realms of the underworld, dark in a way dissimilar to hell but also dissimilar to night on Earth. The courtyard was warm with a gentle breeze, but the sky was starless. It was calm but did not mask the weight of the judgment that awaited the souls at the black gate.

Jack and Bitty entered the palace together. Guards lined the walls on either side of the throne room, plated in gold armor and carrying iron spears. A second throne already sat to the right of Bitty’s tall, ruby red seat. Bitty climbed the steps and turned around to the guards in the room. He gestured for Jack to turn to them as well.

"This is Jack," said Bitty. "He is King of the Underworld and you will treat him with the same respect you treat me. You will obey him as you obey me. Do you understand?"

A strong assent sounded from every soldier in the room.

Jack sat on Bitty’s right side. Cerberus, no longer sweet, sat on Bitty’s left, his three heads salivating and bearing their teeth. Bitty sat down and looked at Jack, then realized Jack was taller than him, and immediately stood. He rearranged the pillows on the seat of his throne.

"Do not tell anyone that I sit on pillows to look taller," whispered Bitty. "I’ll lose all credibility with the underworld."

"You are adorable," said Jack, the smile unable to leave his lips. Bitty kissed Jack’s hand before he sat.

"I’m supposed to be frightening," said Bitty.

"You undoubtedly are," replied Jack.

They quieted and waited, but did not wait for long. The doors to the throne room opened. Bitty sat tall upon his hidden pillows, his expression severe. His natural radiant light turned a horrific shade of red and his dark eyes were alight with flame. A scepter appeared in his hand, black and vined with green, spitting snakes. Jack had not seen this side of him; it was frightening indeed, but Jack did not feel afraid. Bitty put on this show as a means to protect Jack.

Shitty sauntered into the throne room, again naked apart from his shoes and helmet, and carried his brown satchel across his chest. He had no reaction to Bitty’s presence, but looked confused when he lay eyes upon Jack. He looked at the crown on Jack’s head. Before he could speak, Bitty stood and set his scepter firmly onto the stone below him. The clang echoed through the room and the snakes upon it hissed. Cerberus growled in harmony.

"You stand in the presence of Eric, god of the underworld, and his most beloved Jack, former god of the spring and now ruler of Hades. State your business or leave at once."

Bitty’s voice was as severe as when Jack first took the pomegranate seeds in hand. There was no lilt or song, no pleasantries or melody. It was deep, explosive, and silenced all.

Shitty bowed once and then shifted his weight to one foot. "Hey Bits," he said.

Bitty frowned.

"I don’t know what the flying fuck is going on around here and it’s probably not my business to know, but I’m here on orders from Bob himself. Jack is to be returned to the surface immediately," said Shitty. "He is the son of the god of the sky and the goddess of the earth. He cannot be held against his will."

"Jack came to the underworld of his own will and he stays of his own will. He has not been forced in any way."

"Regardless of how he came to be here, he is still here," said Shitty. "His duties on the surface are incomplete. He is missed by his parents and his friends. There is work to be done that cannot be done here."

"It matters not," said Bitty. "Jack has eaten of the pomegranate during his stay in Hades. He can never leave."

Shitty dropped his nonchalant stance and looked directly to Jack. He wore no clothes and stood merely steps from the throne; he was unable to hide his surprise.

"Jack?" Shitty asked. "Is this true?"

"It is true," said Jack.

"Bro, why? I thought we were friends. We were going to be friends! You can’t possibly have made the choice to stay here — here of all places!" Shitty gestured to their surroundings; the throne room was bathed in Bitty’s red light, but the windows were dark and the stone was gray. It did not matter; Jack had seen the fields of Elysium, had felt Bitty from the inside, had taken the seeds willingly from the table and eaten them with no regret.

"You seek signs of coercion," said Jack. "You will find none. I am here of my own accord and I have acted with no remorse. My father will understand that I wish to stay here, to rule along Eric’s side until the end of eternity."

"Jack," pleaded Shitty. "It was not so long ago that you sat at my side and confessed to me that you would not be able to tend to the lands of the earth as well as your mother. She believes you left for that reason. Do not shirk your responsibility. The world is dying without you."

"What do you mean?" Jack asked.

"Alicia has neglected all of her duties in her search for you. The vegetation has died and from the sky falls unpainted flakes of bitter cold."

Jack looked at Bitty, who simply shook his head. Jack stood as well, albeit without the pomp and circumstance that accompanied his beloved’s act. Jack stood tall and Cerberus growled again. Shitty took a step back but moved no further.

"My mother would never neglect her duties to the earth," said Jack. "I have been gone but a day."

"You have been missing for weeks, Jack."

"You do not speak the truth."

"Truth," repeated Shitty. He opened his satchel and pulled out a hand mirror made of gold. "Ford, the goddess of truth, was with your father when he sent me here. She knew that you would not understand the severity of your actions and would not trust a friend rather than the one who has promised you heaven." Shitty glanced at Bitty, who puffed out his chest and slammed his scepter again into the stone.

"Enough," said Bitty. "My ruling is absolute. Those who have consumed the fruit of the underworld must remain in the underworld for eternity. No exceptions can be made. The god of the sky knows this and personally warned Jack of it before he came here —"

"It is a ruling made by you!" said Shitty, the volume of his voice rising. Cerberus jumped to his feet and the guards turned toward the throne. "It is your rule and you can choose to enforce it or not. The earth is dying and you selfishly let it continue because you have fallen in love. There are more important things than love."

"The earth will be fine with care from my mother," said Jack.

"LOOK UPON IT!" yelled Shitty. He extended the arm toward Jack, the mirror in hand. Jack looked upon it and it told no lies; the vegetation had died and from the sky fell unpainted flakes of cold. The meadow where Jack always slept was covered with a white blanket, not that of flowers yet unnamed, but of thick, unrelenting snow. Jack stepped forward and took the mirror from Shitty’s hand. The trees of the forest behind his home carried no leaves and no fruit; their branches were bare and littered with white. The streams had frozen over. There were no fish. In Eleusis the people huddled in their homes near the fire, shivering. They had no food upon their tables and no way to to obtain more.

"They line up in droves outside the gate," said Shitty. "Some are still shivering, their skin blue from frost. Those who are not here yet will be soon; the children lose weight daily and there is nothing left for them to feast on. This is the neglect your mother has created while you are here, eating pomegranate seeds and wearing crowns of gold."

Jack turned to Bitty, horrified. The red flame that radiated from Bitty dulled and he sat on his throne. He set his scepter aside.

"I do not wish you to go," said Bitty.

"Nor I," replied Jack, "but it is far worse than I thought. Everyone will die if it stays this way."

"Then they will all be here," said Bitty. "There is room in Elysium for all."

"Bitty," whispered Jack. Bitty nodded; the flame in his eyes were gone, replaced with the gloss of tears.

"I know," said Bitty. "You must go."

"I do not wish to be gone forever," said Jack.

"You must go," said Bitty and he sat up again, "but you have eaten six pomegranate seeds while you were here. By my decree, you must return six months out of every year. Go and make the world right again, but return to me when it is."

Jack turned to Shitty and handed him back the mirror. "I will return to give life back to the world," he said. "Go. I will follow shortly."

Shitty placed the mirror back in his satchel. "Your mother waits at Eleusis." Jack watched as Shitty exited the throne room. He turned and looked at Bitty again, who stood, took Jack’s hand, and led him away. They did not stop until they were alone, hiding in a hallway in the back of the palace. Jack held Bitty close to him and breathed in the scent of his hair. Bitty held him tightly back; both were shaking with the words they chose not to say.

They held each other for a long time. Finally Jack whispered, "I’ll be back."

"And then you will leave again," said Bitty; his voice dripped with sorrow.

"And then I will return." Bitty looked up at him, tears upon his face. Jack carefully wiped them away, knowing that his own tears threatened as well.

"There will be a day," Bitty said, "that you will return to me forever. Everyone will end up here. It is the final home for us all."

"And from that day, I shall never leave your side."

"Jack," weeped Bitty. Jack leaned down and kissed him. Bitty responded with the heat that he gave inside the bedroom. Jack could feel it ripple down his chest and sink into the lowest part of his stomach. He pulled away.

"There is no time. I must return. Every moment I stay the people of the earth die."

"I will treat them kindly," said Bitty. "They will know no suffering here." Despite Bitty’s words, Jack felt himself smile. "Why do you smile? We are parting."

"When I return, I wish to taste your pie."

Bitty smiled as well. "I will have it warm and waiting when you do."

Jack kissed him once more, then they separated altogether. Bitty turned to a nearby staircase. "Come," he said. He took Jack’s hand and led him to the stairs. "I will lead you there."

They headed up the stairs, which began as stone and quickly turned to the familiar brown steps of packed dirt that had taken Jack here in the first place. The light from the underworld diminished, replaced only by Bitty himself and the red torches upon the walls of earth. They walked in the semi-darkness, up and up again, speaking none but grasping tightly to each other. Eventually the light from the surface began to fill the staircase and the temperature grew colder. Bitty began to shiver.

Jack could see the earth. Bitty stopped seven stairs from the top and Jack passed him. He continued until his foot hit solid ground, bitterly cold against his skin. He was in Eleusis, near the iris patch where he had slept under the stars and began the thunderstorm that called Bitty to him. The Eleusinian palace was covered in snow, as were the surrounding fields. Jack knew the location from his time there, but the irises were nowhere to be found.

He looked down into the ground. Bitty continued to shiver, standing just slightly beneath the surface. As he locked eyes with Jack he thrust his hand out to him; Jack knelt upon the soil and took it. He kissed it once and then let go.

"I will be home soon," Jack said.

"I will be waiting," said Bitty.

They stared into each other’s eyes and then, as sudden as the rain, the earth closed and Bitty was no more. Jack pounded the ground.

"Bitty!" he yelled. "BITTY!"

The earth quaked beneath him, a fearsome rumble of dirt and stone, as if Bitty shouted for him as well. Jack continued to pound the ground with his fists until the dirt covered with snow. He attempted to clear it away, to claw through the dirt until he reached the underworld again, but his hands froze and he could go no further. He sat back and looked around. There was nothing but white. His fury grew and the thunder clapped in the clouds, but it was too cold for rain.

He ran to the theatre. He knew she would be there. She, who had neglected her duties and allowed the world to turn into this, would be nowhere else except for the place where she told him the hardest truth of life and assumed it was too much for him to take. He would scream and rage at her for the pain she had caused the mortals of the earth. They had one duty, one responsibility as gods. She was to create life. He was to sustain it. They had both failed.

He ran through the snow covered fields and up the hill until he hit the stage, where he took pause. His mother was the only one there, sitting in the front row where he had last seen her. Her eyes were downcast, her hair and skin a pale ghost of what they had been. She had cried and the tears froze upon her face. The snow encased her feet, her lap, her hands, her hair. She was a statue instead of a god.

"Mother," he said. He approached carefully, but she had not moved. He knelt in front of her and touched her cold skin. "Mother," he said again.

Alicia gasped and the color returned. Her hands lifted from the snow and placed on his cheeks as she looked upon him. Fresh tears from her eyes fell and she shouted with joy:

"Jack!"

"I’m here, Mother," he said. He pulled her against him and she cried into his arms. "I’m here. It’s okay."

"Jack!" She sobbed and sobbed, her joy without limits. "I thought you were gone forever. I am so sorry. I should never have told you such horrible things."

"No, Mother, it’s all right. I understand what you meant," said Jack. "I needed to see for myself."

He let go of her; she sat back upon the bench and he knelt before her. Her eyes raked over his clothing, the red tunic and cloak, until her fingers touched the golden laurel crown in his hair.

"What is this?" she asked. "Where did you get these things?"

"I have been in the underworld, Mother," Jack said.

She attempted to lift the crown from his head but he stopped her from doing so. She frowned, her eyes narrow in unexpected realization.

"You did not wish to return," she said. He shook his head. "Why? What about the underworld could be better than your home?"

"Much has transpired since last we spoke," said Jack. "I will explain on the way. We need to go home and clear the plains of the snow. The harvest must grow again and I must finish painting the flowers in the far fields."

"Jack, what has happened?" Alicia asked. "You are not my boy who left me behind."

"I am not," said Jack. "I said, I will explain on the way. The people are dying."

"Mortals die. It is why they are mortal."

"They suffer because of our failure. Come, Mother, and quickly. I do not wish another soul to travel to the underworld before their time."

Alicia stood and took his hand. Jack turned and hurried back in the direction of home. Despite his haste, it still took until nightfall to arrive. Jack spoke of his journey underground in just a few minutes, then concentrated on the sky the rest of the way; Bob had created the snow and it took much effort to overrule him. By the time they had reached the bridge that led to Earth, the sky had cleared and the moon and stars were out again.

The snow took longer to clear. Jack longed for Bitty’s warmth, as it would have melted the ice within seconds, but Jack instead pushed it into piles and waited for the sun. Larissa was kind and flew closer to them than usual. The light and heat that made the desert barren also made the snow disappear.

They set to work on the trees next, the ones who produced fruit first. Jack and Alicia worked separately, silently, to make the leaves reappear and the fruit grow quick and full on the branches. Once the fruit trees were restored, Jack left his mother in the forest and traveled to the plains. He gave new life to the crops in the soil, helped them grow healthy and strong once again.

The flowers were last. Many returned on their own once the temperature normalized, but many needed Jack’s assistance. He worked tirelessly to restore their vibrant colors, but it was still many weeks before he had all but the unpainted fields rejuvenated. Jack returned home first; he would color the asphodel in the morning.

Alicia was inside the house when he returned. He hanged his red cloak on a post by the door then sat at the table. Alicia placed a plate of maple sweetened bread in front of him. Jack wondered if Bitty would use maple to sweeten his pies or if he only used sugar and honey. Jack wondered so many things about Bitty; was he okay, did he miss Jack, was he kinder to those whom he judged, knowing how Jack felt about the Fields of Punishment? Jack knew the answer to that already. Bitty had a job to do; those who deserved their punishment were sent to it without mercy. Their deeds in life did not warrant leniency.

"You are quiet tonight," said Alicia.

"I am usually quiet," replied Jack.

"You usually tell me of your day. At least a sentence or two."

"What do you wish me to say?" Jack asked. "That I spent this day regrowing the flowers that you killed without thought?"

"I was worried for you!"

"I was fine," said Jack. "I was happy. I was in love."

"You abandoned us all," said Alicia.

"I abandoned you," corrected Jack. "Papa knew where I was and whom I was with. He would have told you had you asked. There was a thunderstorm that night. Did you not think it would call him to me?"

"I only thought that you were missing and I did not know where you were," said Alicia.

"For your pain, I apologize," said Jack. "For the rest of it, I must ask you to forgive yourself. I cannot do so. Do not let it happen again when I am away."

"What do you mean?" Alicia asked.

"I ate six seeds of the pomegranate while I was in the underworld," said Jack, and Alicia gasped. "The god of the dead loves me, and he saw what the earth had become. What you had done to it. I was permitted to return to restore the harvest to where it was before we traveled to Eleusis. I have done so, though it has taken longer than I hoped. I will split my time between the earth and the underworld — six months here, six months there. Do not let me return to snow and ice again."

"I cannot promise anything," said Alicia.

"There is no reason to despair," said Jack. "All children leave their parents in time. It is the order of the world."

"We are not the order of the world," said Alicia. "We are the gods of the world. We do not follow the way of the mortals."

"The mortals understand more about life and death than we. They understand pain and suffering. They understand beauty. They know that at the end of all things they will be judged and they go there willingly. I will go there willingly when my time here is complete."

"I do not wish to speak of such things," said Alicia. "I’m going to bed."

She stormed away and Jack was disappointed. After he finished his bread he left the house and walked to his favorite spot in the meadow. The night was clear and Ganymede was overhead. Jack closed his eyes and thought of Bitty, of his warmth, his blonde hair, his red tunic and his hearty laugh. Jack thought of him every night, but this night Jack took himself in hand and wished it was Bitty instead.

The following morning Jack should have headed to the far fields to paint the remaining flowers. They had names, even if some of them were named in the underworld during the tour of the Asphodel Meadows. Jack still knew each one and knew their color. It would take most of the day to travel there, but the work would be simple when he arrived.

It did not go as planned. Jack traveled south through the forest toward the plains. Just as the trees thinned, he spotted it. It was to the east, near the river, a small tree with bark white like snow, small green leaves, and thick hanging fruit. Jack walked to it and took a pomegranate from a branch, then sat on the grass below it. He cut open the fruit with a sharpened blade and stared at the seeds inside. They were clear, all of them, not the deep red shade that had filled the bowl next to Bitty’s bed. The pomegranate seeds in the underworld were the first that Jack had tasted.

He plucked one of the hundreds of clear seeds and the rest changed hue, no longer clear but instead red, as they were meant to be. Jack placed the seed in his mouth and counted down the days that had passed, and what was left until he saw his love once more.

"One hundred eighty," said Jack. He plucked another seed. "One seventy-nine." Another. "One seventy-eight…"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it. Come to my [tumblr](http://foryouandbits.tumblr.com/) and say hi!
> 
> Just one more note: a lot of versions of Persephone’s myth has her eating one seed, or many seeds, and spending only three months in Hades. The version I read growing up had her eating exactly six seeds and thus spending six months in Hades.


End file.
